


Sequelae

by candlejill



Series: Consanguinity [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 70k+ wordcount, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Dean/OMC - Freeform, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, First Time, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Humor, Incest, M/M, Original Character(s), Pining, Pre-Stanford, Rachel Nave - Freeform, Recreational Drug Use, Sam/OFC - Freeform, Sam/OMC - Freeform, Sequel, Sibling Incest, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Stanford Era, Teenchesters, Top Sam, Top Sam Winchester, UST, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Wincest - Freeform, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000, dean/ofc - Freeform, polyamorous tendencies, senior prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 77,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3918298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlejill/pseuds/candlejill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After annihilating the boundaries between them, Sam and Dean both struggle to accept the change in their relationship. With Dean battling his guilt and Sam counting down the days until he’s able to put hunting in his past, they attempt to salvage what is left of their brotherly bond.</p><p>Note: Sequel to Situational Machismo - Both parts together equal 130k+ words</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequelae
> 
> noun plural  
> 1\. A pathological condition resulting from a disease.  
> 2\. A secondary consequence or result.

The summer in it’s staggeringly monotonous glory wore on. The sun burned hard and bright killing all living grass, turning lush green into crispy brown. With his skin turned golden, Sam endured, merely a spectator watching time pass him by. Fighting to hold on. Fighting with his brother. Fighting his dad and ghosts and ghouls and whatever else was put in front of him. 

  
Through the hunting and the isolation, Sam kept going. Each day a step closer to his last living on the road. His last day of waking up sore, bruised and bloodied. It was the only thought he entertained. The one he held onto as something dear and precious.

Bobby was still the only person who knew of his plans to quit.

And it really couldn’t come fast enough. The summer was dragging the hell on. Each day in July was painstakingly abysmal. Sam fought with himself internally nearly every moment. He avoided being alone with Dean at all costs which was impossible but he attempted the feat anyway.

By the time August finally arrived he and his brother had come to an unspoken agreement of keeping up appearances for their father. The best they could, which was an admittedly weak attempt. Dean still teased him, but no longer with the same conviction. Sam played along halfheartedly. John didn’t notice a damn thing.   
  
Sam was surprised to find the times when John left he would became increasingly lonely. Dean would disappear to who the hell knows where. Sam would go to the libraries and try to find more information on colleges. They played into new routines. Sam told himself that when he was at college he’d be alone anyway so being alone was just practice. Usually, John brought them on hunts, salt and burns mostly.

While they were on the road Sam would sat quietly in the Impala for hours. He got a lump in his throat anytime he thought back to  _that_  night. Constantly willing his brain,  _Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up_. A bitter mantra on repeat as he held back tears. Everything was ruined because of that goddamn night. He’d shake his head to himself because if you would have asked him before that night he would have told you it was nearly impossible to make his life more miserable.

But he found a way.

Sam wasn’t sure if he was mad at himself or at Dean so he settled on both. And he threw John in for good measure. It was their dad’s damn fault in the first place for making them live their fucked up life.

And Dean.  _Dean_  was the one who made his heart race. His goddamn brother. He made him nervous and wired. And it pissed Sam off.

But Sam, well Sam was the one who broke the first barrier kissing Dean. Sam was the one who bit back tears as he jerked off in the shower remembering how good it was to have Dean’s tongue on him. How soft Dean’s lips were and how tender he’d been with him. And all Sam wanted to do was rake his fingers, scratch red irritated marks down his brother’s chest, and pin him to the fucking bed, or ground, or table, whatever was nearby. And Jesus, the things he’d imagine while they were alone in the car. But,  _no._  Sam just needed his brain to Shut. The  _fuck_. Up.

So, Sam went on and was more than a little bitter that  _this_  was how he spent the summer before his senior year.

 

 

* * *

 

  

Eventually summer passed. Hot days began to cool and leaves began to turn. Midway through September John found a place for Sam to enroll in school. And Dean was relieved, at least he’d soon be away from his brother for most of the day.

New London, Maine. Only a couple hours from the Canadian border.

John settled them into a one story duplex that was being rented out cheap while renovations were being made on the attached side. Fully furnished, if your definitely of ‘fully’ is ‘bare minimum’. There were two bedrooms and a single bathroom between them. The living room had a small couch sitting in front of a 30 inch TV. They actually  _had_  a TV. And cable. The kitchen was small, Dean wouldn’t expect anything less, but it was in surprisingly good condition.

“So, what are we hunting?” Dean asked.

John scratched his head, “We’re gonna work this a bit different, Dean. I’m going to Amherst.”

“Okay, Amherst?”

“Nova Scotia.”

“Canada?” Sam asked. “Have you worked a hunt there before?”

John grunted in response, “Well, it causes a bit of a problem. Dean, I’m gonna need you to stay here and get a job for a while. I’m taking what we have for cash, I don’t want any attention because of credit cards being used across borders.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean nodded grimly.

Sam added, “He could join you on his days off, right? How far is it?”

“I don’t need border patrol knowing our faces. Best Dean stays here. This one might take a while. I’ll call when I can but international calls are going to make it harder.”

John gave Dean cash for a few weeks groceries, enough to hold them over until he could find a job. Then he left for Canada.

They had a credit card for emergencies but otherwise Dean needed a job ASAP. New London was small so there weren’t many options for employment. After a short search he was lucky to find work with the local mechanic. It wasn’t hard to convince the owner after showing him Baby. He mostly did detailing but he was around cars so he wasn’t complaining.

Dealing with his brother was another matter. He and Sam had been walking and talking around each other all summer. Avoiding Sam was one of the most challenging thing Dean had to learn to do. He was ready to nudge Sam’s arm and make some joking smartass comment at nearly every turn but just as he was about to do it Dean would remember, that’s not who they were anymore.

It was killing him. More than anything he just wanted Sammy back.

But then he’d catch a glimpse of Sam getting out of the shower, back gleaming and wet, and he’d remember, he didn’t  _deserve_  to have Sam back.

So he’d drink. And he’d pick up women. And he’d forget.

That was all he  _could_  do.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The school year had already begun by the time Sam enrolled. Of course John couldn’t get him in on time for once so here he was, ready to make another New Kid appearance. He fell into his usual routine of staying off to the side and befriending the local group of misfits. No one was particularly welcoming but they tolerated him which was all he could ask for. He found a couple people to talk to in classes and eat with at lunch. It was difficult for Sam to get close to anyway since he knew they’d be off to the next place soon.

Now knowing he was going to go to college, Sam focused even more intently on classes. Since John was in Canada, and he didn’t have to hunt on the weekends, he was able to keep his grades up without losing sleep. And with Dean basically ignoring him, Sam had plenty of freedom to find and apply for scholarships.

Dean was still his biggest concern. He was never home at the same time as Sam and at first he had been relieved but as days passed it started to aggravate him. He’d hear his brother stumble into the house at night wasted. He’d leave a huge damn mess for Sam to clean in the morning, food taken out and never put away, beer cans around the living room. Dean would have the TV blaring, watching it after a night out while Sam was trying to sleep. But the worst of all, despite how goddamn angry Sam was, at not only himself but also his brother, Sam couldn’t help but wish that one of those nights Dean would stumble into his room.

He knew what kind of freak that made him. He knew he was depraved and it made his blood rage. He was constantly questioning, why was this happening to him? Why did he feel that way about Dean? What did he do in his miserable life to deserve to be  _this_  kind of freak?

But ignoring each other wasn’t working. He couldn’t take cutting Dean out of his life. Not right now. Not when he saw him every damn day. Seeing Dean so close and feeling like he couldn’t even talk to him infuriated Sam each time more than the last.

Usually he was asleep when Dean stumbled in at night but increasingly Sam was having bouts of insomnia. He’d find himself lying awake in bed thinking about his brother. Which of course would quickly lead nowhere good, so Sam would pull himself from his bed and watch TV in the living room. Any distraction to keep his mind from his brother. He had been watching something about World War II on the History Channel when Dean tripped his way through the door. After looking at Sam he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer.

“Dude?  _Seriously?_  Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Still awake ain’t I?” Dean slurred as he walked over to the couch. He kicked Sam’s feet until he made room and sat hard next to Sam jarring him. Dean gave him a weak smirk and grabbed the remote from his hand. He quickly flipped to Comedy Central and exclaimed, “Hey! The Man Show!”

Sam glared at him, “This show is stupid, Dean.”

“Nothin’ stupid about girls on trampolines, Sammy,” he replied taking a drink.

Sam scoffed sarcastically, “Yeah, like  _that’s_  what you’re into.” It slipped off his tongue so easily before he realized what he’d said. It was a residual response from earlier days when teasing each other was okay. But they didn’t do that anymore.

He felt Dean freeze next to him.

Sam knew he should apologize. He knew he should backpedal and try to ease the situation, but suddenly he found he didn’t give a damn. He just didn’t. Dean was wasted nearly every time he saw him.  _If_  he saw him at all. Sam set his jaw and drew his eyes away from the TV. Defiantly, he challenged his brother’s eyes.

Sam watched Dean clench his jaw, narrow eyes glaring back at him. Dean stood slowly from the couch. He threw the remote on it and turned to walk toward his room. Sam’s heart was beating fast. This is what Dean did. He was going to run. Again. That’s what they  _both_  had both been doing and Sam was damn tired of it. He was angry as hell at his brother. Dean was supposed to fix everything, not make it worse.

Sam swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Yeah, that’s right,” he mocked, flipping the TV back to the History Channel. “Run away like always.”

Dean stopped and turned. Raising his voice he asked, “ _What_  do you want from me, Sam?” His eyes were red and he looked dead tired.

Sam pursed his lips and turned back to the TV. “Nothing,” he replied coldly.

“No,” he took a step towards him. “If you got somethin’ to say then share with the class.”

Sam scoffed and turned the volume up to cover his brothers voice. Fuming, Dean stomped over to him, knocking the remote from his hands. He sat hard on the couch, Sam bouncing next to him not giving Dean the satisfaction of moving his glare from the screen. Dean leaned towards him as Sam pretended to ignore him, continuing to stare blankly ahead at the TV.   
  
“You think I’m not into  _girls_  anymore? That it? Do you  _know_  how many girls I’ve fucked since we got here?” Dean leaned close, “I’ve been drowning in pussy, Sam, and some of the things they let me do to them? Well-” he laughed darkly, “Your virginal little mind can’t even imagine.” Dean’s nose grazed against the shell of Sam’s ear, warm breath ghosting over it making Sam shiver.

Dean continued, “What, you think I sit around remembering how much I loved it, Sammy? Hmm? Your cock in my mouth, heavy, and throbbing, and  _so_ fucking hot. You want me to beg for it? ‘ _Please,_  Sammy, tell me what I gotta do to just get  _one_  more taste of my baby brother’s load down my throat. Just  _one_  last time. I promise it’ll be  _real_  good.’” Dean mocked, pulling away then added, “ _That_  what you want to hear, Sam?”

Sam continued to stare ahead, heart racing, tears welling at the back of his eyes. He fought hard to swallow but his throat refused to cooperate.

“ _I’m_  not the one pouting around the house like a bitch, Sam. Go out. Get laid. Leave me, the  _hell,_  alone.” He stood and pounded his feet back to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Sam shook his head, rage flooding through him. He hated feeling like that. He hated feeling like he lost his best friend. Because he did. His  _only_  friend. Sam bit back his tears. Dean was everything to him and he couldn’t deal with nearly a full year of school  _and_  the huge schism between them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After storming away into his room, not bothering to turn the light on as he entered, Dean ripped off his shirt and fell face first into the bed without even considering removing his jeans. He pulled his pillow close to his mouth and muffled a scream into it. Everything was fucked and Dean couldn’t stop shaking. He was getting a headache and his mind was in a fog. All he wanted was his brother. He just wanted Sam with him. He missed him so damn much and Dean didn’t know how to make it better.

But he was excellent at making it worse. There was no reason for him to say those things to his brother but they burst out of his mouth before he even considered what he was saying. They were vile and immoral and, Jesus, Dean meant every fucking word. His breathing was strained, nearly suffocating himself in his pillow. All evidence of tears quickly absorbed.

Then he heard his door crack open. He turned to find Sam’s silhouette in the doorway.

“What the hell is your problem?” Dean demanded, sitting up abruptly.

Sam entered. He approached the bed seething, standing straight puffing out his chest, breathing hard, “You are drunk  _all_  the time, Dean. You come stumbling in as often as Dad. _More_  even.”

Scrambling quickly to his feet, Dean narrowed his eyes, focusing on him in the dark. He walked close and pushed at Sam’s chest, forcing him to step back, “ _You_  wanted me here, remember? Well, here I am, Sam.  _This_  is what you get.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” Sam pushed him back making Dean stumbled, his legs hit the side of his bed.  

Dean laughed morosely and stepped towards his brother again, “Fuck you, Sam.”

Sam inhaled and the next thing Dean felt was shooting pain through his left eye where his brother’s fist connected. He fell back on the bed as Sam scrambled frantically on top of him, fists still pummeling. Shielding himself, Dean quickly retaliated, throwing punches wildly, hitting Sam’s arm and jaw and anywhere he could land a blow.

Dean was dizzy, and besides the pain shooting through his skull, his body was numb. He breathed heavy, gasping, and was able to sit up from under his brother holding him away as Sam slowed his punches to nothing more than weak slaps. With his fist wrapped in Sam’s shirt Dean pulled him towards his mouth, colliding their lips. His brother responded immediately, tongue probing roughly, panting into Dean’s mouth.

He pushed Dean back on the bed and seated himself more firmly over his hips. Dean moaned into his brother’s mouth feeling the pressure on his dick as Sam moved on him. Sam bit and sucked as Dean raked his fingers under his brother’s shirt up his back. He couldn’t help his thrusts, rubbing his cock further against Sam’s ass searching for friction. His heart raced, beating so hard he could feel it in his skull.

Sam started to slow his frenzied pace. Trembling and shaking violently, he pulled away slowly, leaning his forehead gently against Dean’s sharing breaths.

Dean inhaled and whispered softly, “Sam.”

Sam shook his head and climbed off of Dean. He laid next to him on the bed, on his side, puffing breaths into Dean’s cheek trying to catch his breath.

Dean turned on his side towards his brother, keeping his eyes closed tight. He could feel Sam trembling next to him. Without opening his eyes, Dean knew his brother was crying. He reached his arm out to Sam and pulled him close into a hug, soothing his hand down his back.

“Hey,” Dean whispered. “Sam, it’s gonna be okay.”

Sam snaked his arm around Dean’s waist letting his brother hold him tight, tucking his head under Dean’s chin. Sam inhaled, shaking in his embrace. He whispered timidly into Dean’s chest, “Everything’s so fuck up, Dean.”

“Shh,” Dean rubbed his arm. “Sam, we’re okay.”

Laughing darkly, Sam pulled away and Dean finally met his eyes in the dark. “We are  _so_  not okay, Dean.”

Bringing his hand to cup the back of Sam’s head, he scratched his fingers through his hair, “We  _will_  be.”

“How?  _How_  can we possibly be okay?”

Dean sighed and took his hand away from his brother. He hesitated before finally asking quietly, “You want me to go?”

“ _No,_  Dean,” Sam pleaded. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“So what  _do_  you want, Sam?”

“I just want everything to go back to how it was!”

Dean shook his head in the dark, “Sam-”

“Just-” he interrupted. “Will you just talk to me again? Please?” He begged. “And stop drinking so much?”

Nodding in the dark, eyes welling, Dean’s voice scratched, “I’ll try, Sam.”

And he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poltergeist in Amherst - as referenced to in the Pilot. Details were taken from the SPN wiki which references the Pad of Definitions from the Official Website 
> 
> The Man Show (1999-2004)


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up confused and disoriented in Dean’s bed wasn’t how Sam had intended to spend his morning. His brother had been so exhausted the night before but he was finally talking to Sam. He knew it was irrational but if Sam would have left it would mean that their conversation wouldn’t be real. Maybe Dean would forget or change his mind. Waking in his bed was proof that they were okay. Or they had been the night before anyway. Sam didn’t mean to go into Dean’s room at  _all_ that night. He had just been so furious, shaking from anger and hopelessness, he could no longer take it. Sam detonated. He had been holding back his fear. Holding onto his sanity. Holding in his remorse for months and he finally crumbled.

Now, laying in Dean’s bed, he was fairly confident that he had made a terrible mistake. They kissed. Again. When Dean pulled him into it, Sam was shocked but couldn’t back away. Over the last few months he’d been thinking about those full lips and how much he wanted them on him again and he couldn’t stop himself. Dean had actually kissed him again. Though Sam knew he was drunk. Again. He was always drunk. So he fought himself to stop.

Sam sat slowly on the bed trying to escape before waking his brother. He carefully placed his feet on the cool floor, standing, knees cracking under his weight.

Just as he was about to take a step he heard Dean groan, “Make me some pancakes, bitch.”

Sam’s heart stopped. He turned back to see his brother on his stomach nestling further into his pillow. “Uh, okay,” Sam agreed quietly, voice hoarse.

Disappearing into his own room, he quickly changed out of the clothes he had been wearing the previous day and into something that resembled clean. Sam padded quietly to the kitchen and worked on making breakfast. It was the least he could do to help ease over the tension of the morning. Battling his will anytime his mind wandered to the night before, to kissing Dean, he stopped himself from thinking about it. He wasn’t going to dwell like last time. That didn’t do a damn bit of good. Instead, he allowed himself to remember how Dean was treating him that morning. He acted like himself again even if it was only briefly. The night before, Dean said they would be okay and Sam wanted so desperately to believe him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous as hell when Dean finally came lumbering out of his room. Sam looked up from the stove and when he set eyes over Dean’s face he hurried over momentarily forgetting his nerves.

“Shit, Dean. I am so sorry,” Sam ghosted his fingers over Dean’s left eye where purples and blues and yellows had spread over the socket.

Dean winced lifting his good eyebrow, “It’s fine, Sam. Just, grab me an ice pack and some painkillers.” His brother sat at their small table and waited while Sam grabbed supplies. Pulling up a chair, Sam carefully placed the pack over his eye.

Looking him over with his good eye, Dean cleared his throat, “Pancakes?”

“Oh, right,” Sam swallowed and stood awkwardly, “Right.”

He brought breakfast over to the table and they ate together in an arduous silence. Sam found heat rising to his cheeks in what was beginning to feel like a permanent blush. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. Or how Dean was going to act. Or what he should say to him. He tried several times to speak but each time he opened his mouth he couldn’t find the words he needed. Something to ease the strain between them.

He finally started, “Dean -”

“Sam,” he interrupted. Dean looked down at the table sighing, then continued, “Look, I know you want to talk about this. But I can’t, Sam. Okay? I  _can’t_.” He inhaled, voice wavering he looked up to meet Sam’s eyes with his good one. “But what we were doing before wasn’t working either. So, let’s just,” he paused considering. Dean shook his head, “Let’s just pretend this whole summer never happened okay? Can we do that?”

Tensing uncomfortably, Sam nodded, “Yeah, okay.” He paused before asking timidly, “Does that mean you’re going to stop drinking so much?”

Sam watched as Dean shifted in his chair uncomfortably, “Yeah, Sam. I’ll try.”

He exhaled and Sam could tell his brother began to relax considerably too.

It took a few days but they were able to find a tolerable silence with each other and to Sam’s anticipation it wasn’t like before. Dean wasn’t drinking, Sam wasn’t brooding, and they were able to have somewhat normal conversations.

Sam was even able to sleep at night again which was all he was willing to ask for.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their adapted lifestyle didn’t change how he felt. They just found a way to work around it. Dean kept himself as productively preoccupied as he could. He spent much of his time at work. Dean wasn’t avoiding his brother but having something to work on help cleared his mind. It was peaceful to have a problem in front of him that he could actually fix, and at the very least, they could use the money. When he came home he’d usually find Sam working on homework at the table or watching TV in the living room. And Dean would join him. He’d sit next to him on the couch, they’d brush arms or legs without either of them recoiling. They worked with the new routine and for the most part they were okay.

Dean was finding it very challenging to pick up women now that he was keeping sober. Not that he couldn’t get them but his interest faltered greatly. When they first arrived at New London he was wasted more often than not, going home with whoever he could find. It felt like Dean made the rounds through practically all the women in the local bars. But since he and Sam were getting along better, and since he was significantly more sober, he hadn’t quite been able to get back at it.

He tried not to think about it. He didn’t want to know  _why_  he wasn’t pulling women. But deep down he already knew and it wasn’t something he was ever going to vocalize to himself or anyone else.

John was another matter weighing on Dean. He hadn’t been gone for too long, but they hadn’t heard from him in a couple of weeks. Dean was trying not to let it bother him. He knew that with his dad in Canada it was going to be harder for him to get a hold of them, and John was never good at it to begin with, but he was still expecting some form of contact.

“Hey, man. You hear from Dad at all while I’ve been at work?” Dean asked.

Sam looked up from his math book at the table, “Um, no. Haven’t heard from him since he left. Wait, no he called about a week after but I already told you about that one. So, not since then. Why?”

Dean leaned against the wall, facing towards his brother, “I dunno, man. Just thinking about it. Haven’t heard much since he took off.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head, “Yeah, weird huh? And normally he’s  _so_  reliable too.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean answered, “Yeah, okay, dude. I was just wondering.” He pushed himself off the wall and pulled up a chair across from Sam. “You been training at all?”

Sam lifted his eyebrows and sarcastically replied, “Yeah, Dean.  _Every_  day.”

“Hey, you need to keep that shit up, Sam. You know when he gets back he’s gonna expect you to keep up with us.”

“Oh, so that’s the bar? You’re telling me I have to keep up with  _you_ , the exemplification of athleticism?” He teased.

“Screw you, poindexter.  _I’ve_  been keeping up with training.”

“Oh, yeah?” Setting his pencil down, Sam crossed his arms and eyed his brother. Smirking he asked, “Is that what you’re calling lifting a beer to your mouth now?” Sam shook his head, “Training on growing that beer gut is more like it.”

“Dude, I could out…  _whatever_  you, in anything you want! Targets. Running. Sparring. Name it, you  _know_  I’d have your ass whooped in a second.”  
  
Smiling, showing his dimples Sam asked, “How about in research? Or translating?”

Giving him an annoyed look, Dean deadpanned, “Training, asshole. Not the boring shit.”

Sam nodded, “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

“Dude, and pay myself? The only money  _you_  have is what  _I_ decide to give you.”

Sam laughed, “Okay, bragging rights then?”

“Just tell me where and when, Sammy.”

“Race. On foot. We’ll go down a few blocks on that gravel road towards the end of town. The one where you always fishtail on the curve. One mile.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“If  _I_  win, you have to stop calling me ‘Sammy’ dude, seriously.”

Dean scoffed, “And when  _I_  win?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “I dunno. What do you want?”

Rubbing his chin he thought for a moment, “You make me supper every night for a week. And not that TV dinner shit. Full out meals, man. The works.”

Sam shook his head but agreed, “Fine. It’s getting dark, you want to do it tomorrow?”

“Hell no, bitch,” Dean stood from the table. “Right now. We do most of our hunting at night anyway.”

Smirking Sam stood from the table, “Fine, let’s go.”

Dean drove them to the edge of town. Right behind them were several houses and in front of them an open gravel road leading into fields. The sun had already set and it was getting dark but they could still make out the silhouettes of trees and sheds and houses.

Both boys climbed out of the car shutting their doors behind them. “How you wanna do this?” Dean asked stretching his back.

They walked around to the front of the Impala. Sam nudged Dean’s shoulder with his own, “Okay, right. See up straight ahead there’s that stop sign at the intersection? And if you turn right and go down the road to just  _there-_ ” He extended his arm and pointed.

“The tree?”

“Yeah.”

“We hoppin’ that fence?”

“Unless you don’t think you can lift that beer belly over it.”

Dean pushed him with his shoulder, “First meal you’re making me is steak, Sammy.”

Sam scoffed, “Whatever jerk.”

They readied their stance, “On three.”

The boys counted in unison and once they hit three they were off, dust flying behind them, kicking rocks as their legs pumped and feet hit the ground hard. Dean was breathing heavy, blood rushing fast and hard through his veins. He and Sam stayed nearly side by side. The moment Sam started to pull ahead, Dean fought for whatever was left and pushed himself to go just a  _little_  faster.

They reached the turn and Dean hugged the inside, feet sliding as he rounded the corner. Sam was close behind. Pumping his arms faster, Dean pushed himself, heart pounding in time with his feet. The cold autumn air caused his eyes to water but Dean was smiling. For the first time in a long damn time he truly felt okay.

Cutting into the overgrown grass in the ditch, Dean ran along the fence waiting until he was closer to the tree before climbing over. Suddenly, he noticed Sam was no longer behind him. He slowed and looked back to find Sam already climbing the fence. Swearing, Dean booked it to the wooden post and with one step up he hopped over. He could hear his brother laughing and when he looked Sam was pulling in the lead.

Dean swore out of breath forcing his feet to go faster, just a  _little_  faster, and then he was next to Sam again, slowly moving in front. Sam was putting up a good fight but Dean was able to slam his hands against the tree a few steps ahead of him.

Laughing out a breath Dean fell to the ground, “Yeah, bitch! I told-” He inhaled hard, “I told you!” Sam collapsed next to him, both boys lay on their backs, chest heaving trying to catch their breath. “Steak, man. Then maybe some ribs.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said out a breath. “You’re paying for all of it.”

Dean chuckled and turned his head to Sam, “You’re out of shape, dude.”

Sam scoffed in response.

They fell into a comfortable silence, both slowly regaining their breath. Dean was finally feeling good. Sam was warm at his side with their arms touching. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of his brother breathing alive next to him. The feeling of the leaves crunching underneath him. The crisp smell of night air.

They were entirely isolated next to the bare tree. Sam and Dean. Just the two of them. Old instincts would tell him this would be the perfect time to give Sam one of  _those_  looks. To reach his hand over to him and unzip his jeans. And Dean  _wanted_ to. He wanted to  _so_  fucking bad. Dean found the courage to turn his head and look at his brother. Sam was so close and hair was stuck to his forehead, wet from sweat.

Sam turned and Dean skimmed his face. His eyes were dark and he was wearing a small smile. They were so close and Dean wanted to lean in to bridge the gap. Sam’s smile fell as he looked at Dean’s lips. That’s when he realized Sam wanted to too.

But they couldn’t.

He watched Sam lick his lips and he could feel his brother move closer.

Dean took a breath and stood up abruptly. He turned around and extended his hand to Sam, “Come on. You have school tomorrow.”

Sam grabbed his hand, allowing Dean to pull him up. He bit his lip nervously and admitted quietly, “This was fun, Dean.”

“You want to train with me? I’m gonna go jogging in the morning. You need all the help you can get, man,” Dean slapped his chest and began walking back towards the fence.

Following behind but quickly catching up, Sam replied, “Yeah. Wake me before you go.”

Dean laughed and sang playfully off key, “Wake me up, before you go-go!”

“Oh, god, Dean. Stop. I take it back,” Sam whined.

Dean continued to sing a few more verses, nudging against Sam as they walked back to the car. Sam shoved his hands over his ears and insisted that Dean’s singing was a worse form of torture than anything something evil could cook up.

They both returned to the house in good spirits. Happy for the first time in a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wham! - Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go (Make It Big album 1984)


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was finally feeling at ease around his brother again. He knew they were still walking on around each other and they were a hell of a way off from where they used to be, but for the most part they had worked things out. As long as ‘working things out’ meant, ‘ignore the problem completely’. He started training with Dean in the mornings. Usually they’d jog a few miles but when Dean was feeling lazy he’d get out knives and start throwing practice instead. He hated to admit it but Dean  _was_  a much better hunter, at least with the physical aspect. But Sam was okay with that.  _He_  wasn’t the one making a career out of it.

While the days lagged on, Sam became closer acquainted with kids from school. He had been put on the spot enough times by them and deemed ‘alright,’ so he was able to blend in.

One classmate in particular, Tyler, began to warm to him. Tyler was a junior and he had brown eyes and short spiky brown hair. Sam got the impression that Tyler didn’t quite fit in with any of the cliques either. He wasn’t popular, he wasn’t into sports, he wasn’t a stoner, or a band geek. But he was well enough liked to be casual friends with all of them.

“Homecoming next week,” Tyler bumped into Sam’s shoulder as he sat at their lunch table.

“Uh, yeah?” Sam replied.

“You going to the football game?”

Sam hesitated, “Um, not really planning on it.”

“Aw, come on, man. It’s usually all right. I’m not a big fan of the games but lots of chicks show up and everyone is a bit more relaxed. I can introduce you around.”

Sam thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure how long they were going to be in New London and being a Senior he had already had endless first meetings of an innumerable amount of classmates. He wasn’t really feeling up to socializing with the masses, “Yeah, I dunno. I think I’ll pass on this one.”

“Okay, well. If you’re not up for the game, Nasa is having a party after. Well, he’s starting  _before_  the game but that’s where everyone’s going after.”

“Nasa? Who is that? Is that his real name?”

“Nah,” Tyler pointed to a group of skaters and one in particular that had shoulder length hair parted down the middle. “‘NASA’, because, you know, he’s higher than space most of the time.”

Sam laughed, “Right. Nasa.”

“Real name is Brandon.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, so anyway, Nasa is having a party. You in for that at least?”

“Uh,” Sam hesitated. “I dunno, I mean-”

“Come on, man! He had one last year and that’s all everyone talked about the whole semester. I heard someone even started an orgy in the hot tub.”

“That’s-” Sam started, “Really disgusting.”

“Just avoid the hot tub,” Tyler chuckled. He eyed over Sam carefully. Biting his lip he quickly said, “Okay, so, I wasn’t suppose to say but  _Ryan Mack_  wants you to go.”

“What? Why does he-”

“Sorry. Not  _boy_  Ryan Mack,” Tyler interrupted, “Girl Ryan Mack. There’s one of each in the Senior class. It’s confusing. This is the  _girl_  Ryan Mack. Anyway, she wants you to go.”

“Which one is she again?”

Tyler looked around the lunch room. He found a very naturally pretty girl with long dirty blonde hair and nodded in her direction, “She’s cool, dude. You’d like her.”

He contemplated quietly for a moment before agreeing, “Yeah. Okay.” Getting out and meeting more women would probably be good for him. And if she  _specifically_ wanted him there it’s not like he’d have to force conversation too much. She was at least partially interested.

Over the week Sam covertly studied Ryan Mack between classes, in the hall, and at lunch.  _Girl_  Ryan Mack. He caught her looking back a few times which caused him to turn away blushing but to his surprise she never approached him. Sam was more than slightly relieved. At least at the party he’d have Tyler around for support instead of getting ambushed in the hall.

Sam agreed to meet up with him after the game at Nasa’s house. He didn’t really know what to expect at a high school house party. He’d never really gone to one before and any kind of similar situation he’d always had Dean as back up. Dean usually did all the talking and negotiating and Sam was starting to get really anxious about going without his brother. Though admittedly, having Dean around tended to make things worse which was clearly made evident the previous spring.

When the night came, Sam spent Friday evening digging around through his clothes trying to find anything that might look halfway decent.

When Dean walked in and saw him he asked, “What the hell are you doing, dude?”

Sighing and scratching his head he answered, “I’m freaking out.”

Dean laughed, “Yeah, I can see that. Why?”

Sam shook his head, “I’m going to this party tonight because this girl wanted me to go and I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear. I don’t  _have_  anything to wear.”

Dean smirked, “Come on.” He waved him into his room. Sam followed as Dean dug through his clothes to find a simple nice solid blue button down. “Just throw this over one of your white shirts. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam grabbed it from him and put it on.

“You really want to look good I can get the clippers out, man. Ready to buzz whatever the hell you have going on on the top of your head?”

Sam glared at him, otherwise ignoring his comment he said, “I need a ride.”

“Am  _I_  invited to this party?”

Sam scoffed, “You can stay if you want but all it’s gonna be is jail bait, dude.”

“ _Eighteen_  isn’t ‘jail bait,’ Sammy.”

Sam turned away awkwardly, thinking back to what had happened between them in the spring. He cleared his throat, “Um, this is dangerously close to a conversation neither of us want to have. So, just- will you give me a ride?”

Realizing what Sam was implying, Dean flushed instantly. He stood, awkwardly shuffling his feet. Shrugging his shoulders he said, “Uh, yeah. No problem.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

After Sam finished getting ready they left in the Impala. Dean tried to ignore why he wanted to go to a high school party. When Sam told him he was planning on meeting up with some girl it made his stomach drop. But really, Sam shouldn’t be going to some party alone anyway. In their line of work they tend to attract the worst kind of complications so really Dean just wanted to be a good older brother and keep an eye on him.

When they pulled up to the house they saw several cars parked down the street.

Dean cleared his throat, “You said this dude’s name is Nasa?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam climbed out of the car slamming the door shut behind him. Dean followed and they walked across the street toward the front door. “‘Higher than space,’” Sam quoted back to him.

“Stoner? Alright,” Dean laughed quietly. “Point him out to me, huh?”

They approached with loud bass thumping through the walls. Someone came laughing out the front door as they walked into the house. It lead to an open living room with a dining room at the far right. The lighting was dim and there were a few people taking turns playing Tony Hawk on PlayStation.

Dean leaned over to Sam, “So, where’s your girl?”

“Uh,” Sam scanned the room. He nodded by the dining room, “The blondish one. Long hair.”

It sat wrong with him how pretty this girl was. She wasn’t hot like Stephanie had been but for high school she was a solid 8. Swallowing back his jealousy, Dean nudged, “Go talk to her.”

Sam turned, panicking, “No! I’ve never talked to her before.”

“Wait,” Dean stared at him and shook his head, “I thought she invited you?”

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him to the side moving him out of the way. He hissed, “No, Tyler said Nasa was having a party after homecoming but  _Tyler_  invited me because he said Ryan told him she wanted me here because she liked me but I’ve never said a damn thing to her before!”

Dean nodded, failing to hold back a smile, “I understand all those words separately but none of that made sense, dude. But come on, whatever. If she wants you here, go talk to her.”

“No. I need to find Tyler first.”

“Okay, well, how about  _I_  go talk to Ryan? Break the ice?” Dean lifted his eyebrows lewdly.

Sam laughed. “Uh,  _no_  thanks, Dean _._  Okay, wait, there’s Tyler. I’m going over there. Why don’t you, I don’t know, score some weed or find someone to hook up with in the bathroom. Whatever it is you do at parties,” he teased. “Find the hot tub, maybe the orgy has started.”

Dean scoffed and shook his head, “Fine. Whatever, man. You need me, I’ll be around, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waved his hand and walked off towards his friend.

Shaking his head, Dean began to explore the house. On the opposite end of the dining room was a hallway which Dean found led to three bedrooms and a bathroom. The third room, more of a study, had a walkway straight through to the kitchen. It made a large loop around the first floor. There was another door leading to the backyard where he assumed the hot tub was, and stairs to the basement on the right. Peeking his head through the kitchen he could see a better angle of the dining room where Sam was a goddamn nervous wreck. Dean watched as he fumbled with a red cup in his hands and looked wide-eyed at his girl. Kyle or Ryan or whatever the hell.

Grabbing a cup of his own, Dean found a place in the kitchen to covertly watch his brother from a distance. There was another guy next to him, shorter than Sam but good enough looking. And next to Ryan was another girl. She had black hair and fair skin. Annoyed, Dean had to admit that both of the girls were pretty. For teenagers. Dean’s eyes widened as he saw them start to move towards the kitchen. He threw back the rest of his drink, grabbed another, then decided to retreat to the basement.

Walking down the steep stairs he had to duck his head before he reached to bottom. Music was blaring, the only source of light was from a few blue party lights hanging haphazardly around the room. There were several couches and chairs and most people, _kids_ Dean had to remind himself, were dancing and jumping around like idiots. To the far left was a shitty home made bar that Dean noticed was  _very_  empty. In the opposite corner of the room he saw an opening that led to a bedroom with puffs of smoke filtering through.

Dean turned sharply and walked towards it. He peaked his head in to see three guys and two girls sitting on the bed and around the room. They looked up at him and Dean quickly asked, “Room for one more?”

“Who are you?”

“Um, friend of Tyler’s?”

A kid with long shaggy hair nodded and waved him in. He patted a spot on the bed next to him and said, “Sure thing man.”

“Say, uh, any of you Nasa?”

“That’s me,” the kid who gestured him in responded.

“I heard you might be able to hook me up?”

Nasa laughed and handed him the joint that was in his hand. “Free tonight, but you want more later I can supply.”

Dean grabbed it and inhaled, “Thanks, man.” He leaned his back against the headboard and watched out the bedroom door as people continued to dance. He tried to block out the nagging thoughts of his brother upstairs with that girl and instead focused on relaxing the buzz the best he could.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Without Dean as backup, Sam had been nervous when he walked over to Tyler. Not that he wanted or needed his support, but Dean did have a way of making things easier. He was better at breaking the ice. Biting his lip, Sam approached them. Tyler was standing next to Ryan and another girl.

Sam cleared his throat by way of announcing himself and said, “Hey, man.”

“Winchester! Look, Sam is here,” Tyler laughed.

“Here I am,” he nodded awkwardly.

Tyler smiled at him, eyes beaming. He slapped a hand on his shoulder and introduced the girls, “Uh, Ryan, Stacy, you know Sam Winchester right?”

Stacy, a short girl, not much taller than five foot with shoulder length black hair, smirked at Tyler, “Yeah, I think I remember hearing the name come up a time or two.”

“Hi, Sam,” Ryan smiled.

“Hey,” Sam bit his lip nervously.

Tyler cleared his throat, “Uh, hey man, you don’t have anything to drink. Let me go grab you something. I’ll be right back. Let you kids talk a bit.” Tyler winked at him and started backing away.

Sam widened his eyes and shook his head trying to get Tyler to stay but with a smirk he patted Sam’s back and disappeared into the kitchen.

Ryan smiled sweetly, “So, you haven’t been in New London long, right?”

“Uh, yeah. My dad’s job moves us around a lot. We’ve only been here about a month.”

Stacy nodded, “So, you’ve like, been all over the country?”

Sam laughed, “Yeah, I’ve definitely been everywhere. Um, not Alaska or Hawaii though.”

“It’s just you and your dad?” Ryan asked.

“And my brother. Just the three of us,” he nodded awkwardly. His heart was beating fast. Sam wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say.

Stacy cleared her throat, “So are you and Tyler pretty good friends?”

“Yeah, I guess. He’s been kind of showing me around.”

Stacy smiled at Ryan and grabbed onto Ryan’s arm. They each had a drink in their hand and both took a sip right as Tyler showed up. He extended his arm with cup in hand, “Hey, here.”

“Thanks,” Sam accepted it and took a drink quickly.

“Has Sam been talking your ear off over here? He does that,” Tyler teased.

Ryan smiled sweetly, “We’ve been getting to know each other.”

Tyler nodded, “Oh, hey, Ryan did you do the extra credit from Mr. Peterson’s class?”

“Yeah, but you already  _owe_  me more than one,” she replied pointedly. “What are you gonna give me for it?”

“I’ll do your essay for Practical Law.”

Ryan laughed, “The one on ethics?”

“Er, okay. Yeah, probably not the best idea,” Tyler laughed.

Sam asked, “You’re taking Practical Law?”

Ryan licked her lips, “Yeah, it fulfills a social studies credit.”

“I didn’t know this school had that option,” Sam took a drink.

“Oh, yeah. It’s pretty interesting. They made us read  _Lord of the Flies_. It’s a quarter long class so you could probably get in on the next one.”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, definitely. I’ll check it out.”

Tyler slapped Sam on the back, “Alright kiddies, let’s get some jello shots.”

Laughing nervously, Sam followed them into the kitchen. He took a few shots that were lined along the table and started to relax considerably. He felt at ease with Tyler around. He was good at carrying the conversation and didn’t let an awkward moment fall between them. Ryan and Stacy seemed nice enough too. Ryan was pretty and soft spoken and she seemed smart. Eventually Tyler suggested they all head downstairs, Sam nearly smacked his head as he walked down, ducking last minute.

Everything was lit in blue, it was dark and hard to make out many faces but Sam recognized a few from school. There were people laughing and singing loud and off key, some dancing by large speakers, others sprawled out on the couch making out, and a few jammed together in one reclining chair. Stacy navigated them over to a corner near a small, very empty bar. There was one bean bag chair which she plopped down on. Sam suspected she was drunk.

Stacy extended her hands, “Ryan, ‘comere.” Ryan reached her hand out and Stacy pulled until she fell in her lap laughing.

Sam and Tyler sat on the floor in front of them. He nudged Sam and spoke low in his ear, “That’s kind of hot, huh? Think we can get them to make out with each other?”

Stacy hugged Ryan close to her and Sam watched as she whispered in her ear. Ryan met Sam’s eyes. Sam was eternally grateful that it was too dark to see him blush.

Tyler cleared his throat, “So, ladies, you seem awful  _friendly_  over there.”

Ryan wrapped her arm around Stacy, “Well, we’re  _best_  friends. Duh, Tyler.”

“How  _close_  are you?”

Stacy slurred, “She knows everything about me.”

“You guys ever make out before?”

Ryan groaned and rolled her eyes, “I’m sure you’d like to know.”

He nudged Sam’s arm and said, “You know that means ‘yes’.” Sam just smiled and shook his head.

“What, you want to watch or something?” Stacy asked.

Tyler smiled, “I wouldn’t turn it down if you’re offering.”

Ryan smiled, “Okay, but what do we get? You watch us make out like a bunch of big pervs but what are we getting out of this deal exactly?”

“I know!” Stacy interrupted, “You want us to make out? You two do it first.”

“What?! Gross,” Tyler shook his head.

Stacy pouted, “It’s only fair, Tyler.”

Tyler looked at Sam and raised an eyebrow. Sam shook his head, “If they don’t want to that’s okay.” He turned to Ryan, “You don’t have to. He’s just being an ass.”

“Hey! That offends me,” Tyler replied in false shock.

Stacy waved her hand at Sam, “No, it’s not a big deal. We’ve done it more than once. We’re just not putting on a free show. You guys are hot. I wanna see some hot guys makeout.”

Ryan shrugged, “I think Stacy has a point. It’s a fair trade.”

Tyler eyed Sam awkwardly. Sam had never kissed a guy before, well,  _besides_  Dean which right now he was  _not_  counting.  _Anything_  he did with Dean he would  _never_  count. Though, thinking about it, it might actually be a good idea to try with Tyler. Maybe he was into guys and he just didn’t know it? Maybe that was the whole reason for the fucked up stuff between them. If Sam was attracted to guys and Dean was the only guy around, maybe it was as simple as that?

Sam shrugged indifferently.

Tyler shook his head, “No, way. There’s  _way_  too many people here.”

Stacy scoffed, “We’re hidden away in the corner. Who’s gonna see us?”

“Uh, the entire high school?” Tyler offered.

“Whatever, everyone loves you, Tyler. Nobody's gonna care. But, fine, go behind the bar then, big baby,” Stacy shook her head.

Ryan added, “You remember when Chris Shaffer got dared to put on that dress and makeup and do the Macarena? Everyone thought it was hilarious. No one thought he was gay. It’s just a dare.”

Stacy laughed, “You know, actually, I’m starting to think he doth protest too much.”

Sam chuckled and offered, “Hey, man, I’m game if you are.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, “ _Fine._  Fine. So, like what are we talking here? Like three seconds or what?”

“How long do you want to see  _us_  do it?” Stacy asked.

“Full two minutes at least,” Ryan said.

Tyler groaned and looked at Sam. Sam just shrugged back. Finally he agreed, “Alright, alright. Okay.”

“Wait!” Stacy interrupted. “None of that, like, barely touching bullshit. You have to go for it, like  _really_  do it.”

“Fine!” Tyler accepted. “Wait, Sam, are you gay?”

Sam blushed laughing, “No, dude.”

Tyler stammered, “Okay. Alright, then. So, how-”

Sam shifted until he was kneeling suddenly in front of him and Tyler stopped talking. Sam leaned forward and put his hand on the back of his head. Sam took a moment to look into Tyler’s eyes before he closed his own and pulled him close meeting their lips. He was nervous as hell and he could tell Tyler was too but Tyler opened his mouth and let Sam slide his tongue inside. His mouth was warm and he could taste the alcohol. Tyler slowly, cautiously, decided to participate more actively by slipping his tongue into Sam’s. Sam held him firmly, as he adjusted himself closer getting a better hold, adjusting his head to position him where he wanted. He bit Tyler’s bottom lip, and sucked it into his mouth. Both boys were breathing heavy and Sam was starting to get hard.

It wasn’t the same as with Dean. It felt nice and Tyler was a good kisser and, yeah, Sam would say he was attractive, but his stomach wasn’t jumping and his adrenaline wasn’t flowing other than the fact that they were being watched. Though, Sam was definitely having a good time.

He felt a tug on his arm and finally broke away from Tyler, confused to see Stacy smiling wide, “Not that we want to interrupt, feel free to continue, but your two minutes are over.”

Ryan was laughing quietly and smirking at Tyler, “I think there are some rooms you could probably find if you want to round the next base.”

Tyler flipped her off, “Don’t be an asshole.”

Sheepishly, Sam leaned away from Tyler. By the end of it he had practically been in his lap. He moved away uncomfortably, sitting back in his spot but now considerably closer to Tyler than he had been before. He could feel the heat of his arm next to Tyler’s as they brushed against one another.

“Well?” Tyler said impatiently. He brought his knees up to his chest and supported his elbows. “Your turn, ladies.”

Ryan laughed and pulled Stacy towards her. She raked her fingers through Stacy’s dark black hair but before they kissed, Stacy turned her head and looked at Tyler, “You want us to throw in some groping? Over the shirt? Under the shirt?”

“Hell yeah,” Tyler smiled.

“Right, but that means you and Sam-”

“Oh,” Tyler turned awkwardly to look at Sam.

“I think that’s where I draw the line,” Sam said awkwardly biting his lip.

“Just thought I’d offer,” Stacy turned back to Ryan and they started to kiss.

Sam tried to pay attention to the girls, and yeah it was hot and all, but he couldn’t help but keep his attention on Tyler brushing gently against his arm. When Sam was getting ready for the party he definitely did not expect this to be the way his evening would turn out. He was having fun but now he had other questions.  _Was_  he gay? Is that what was going on? He was pretty sure he wasn’t gay. As awkward as it was, he had really enjoyed hanging out with Stephanie and everything she did with him in the car. But  _that_  was something he didn’t allow himself to think about because his mind would quickly wander to Dean fucking in the front seat. Maybe he only liked Stephanie because Dean was there. Sam shook his head and focused again on the girls in front of him.

He could see Ryan’s tongue dipping into Stacy’s mouth, wetting her bottom lip. They both seemed so soft and they were so tender with each other. Ryan carefully ran her fingers through Stacy’s hair and Stacy smiled into the kiss. It  _was_  pretty fucking hot. But so had been kissing Tyler.

Sam sighed and decided not to think too hard on it. It was killing whatever buzz he’d been able to pick up.

He suddenly felt a nudge on his side away from Tyler. He looked up to see Dean smiling down at him, “Sammy, looks like you found all the good action.”

Stacy pulled away from Ryan to look him over.

“Aw, man,” Tyler whined at him. “You ruined it.”

“Who are you?” Stacy asked. “Damn. You’re hot too. Hey! What about if Tyler, and Sam and you-”

“He’s my brother,” Sam interrupted quickly seeing where her mind was headed.

“Oh, yikes,” Ryan grimaced.

“Yikes. Or… _or_  maybe hot?  _Extra_  hot.”

“No,” Sam said firmly.

“What’s going on, now?” Dean asked flashing his most flirtatious smile at the girls.

Sam rolled his eyes, “Nothing, Dean.”

“They want all of us to make out,” Tyler offered.

Sam blushed furiously in the dark and looked down, far away from his brother.

Dean replied quickly, “Sorry, ladies. We don’t swing that way.”

Stacy giggled, “You shoulda been here ten minutes ago.”

Dean began to ask, “What’s that supposed-”

“Nothing,” Sam interrupted standing, throwing Stacy a dirty look. She closed her lips fighting a smile. “I think it’s time we probably head home anyway.” Sam grimaced waving his hand, “Jesus, you reek of pot, Dean.”

“I met Nasa,” he smiled. Dean was relaxed and seemed to be in a very good mood.

“I can see that,” Sam put his hand on his shoulder and turned him around. “Up the stairs, Dean.” Sam turned around and smiled at them still sitting on the floor. “Sorry to just take off. It was nice meeting you,” he smiled to the girls then turned to walk towards the stairs.

Tyler stood up quickly, “Wait, Winchester.” Tyler pulled him to the side away from the girls. Loud enough for only Sam to hear he asked, “Hey, we cool?”

“Um, yeah?” He answered confused.

“I mean, with the whole… my tongue down your throat thing?”

“Oh!” Sam lifted his eyebrows, “Yeah man, we’re cool. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, good,” Tyler let out a breath. “Hey, so, I was gonna ask, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Homework probably.”

Scoffing he replied, “On a Saturday?”

Sam shrugged.

“Nah, man. We’re hanging out tomorrow. Doing something fun, alright?”

Nodding and smiling, Sam agreed, “Yeah okay, cool. Give me a call.” He waved and ducking his head he walked up the steep stairs to catch up with his brother.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Through a faint cloud, Dean somehow found himself stumbling into their duplex. He wasn’t confident enough to bet money on it but he was fairly certain Sam had driven them home. Dean smiled as Sam grabbed his hand and pulled him back to his bedroom. He was warm and tired and relaxed and hell if he wasn’t a little horny. Generally speaking, everything was pretty damn good.

Sam turned the light on as Dean sat on the bed. He felt exhausted and only wanted to sleep but as he attempted to fall into the bed Sam stopped him and pulled him back up.

“No, dude, come on. Take off your shoes.” Dean obeyed and toed them off, kicking them to the side. “Okay, now stand,” Sam ordered

Dean stood and Sam looked at him expectantly. Dean smiled and shrugged, “What?”

Sam rolled his eyes and asked, “Your pants?”

Lifting an eyebrow Dean smirked, “Not even takin’ me to dinner first?” He joked as he unzipped and stumbled out of his jeans. He kicked them ungracefully to the pile with his shoes. When he looked back up he saw Sam, face bright red, not meeting his eyes.

There was something nagging at his mind about why Sam was blushing but he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. He felt good. He felt relaxed. It was nice. He pulled his shirt off and sat back down on the bed.

He watched Sam walk over to the light and flip it off plunging the room in darkness. “Night Dean,” he said softly.

“Wait, Sam,” Dean called out. He laid back on the bed, pulling his pillow in close, and moved to the side closest to the wall. “‘Com’ere.”

He heard Sam sigh and after a moment he spoke quietly, “There are about a thousand reasons why that’s not a good idea, Dean, and you’ll remember them in the morning.”

“No, Sammy. Please? Just come here.”

He heard Sam groan and felt the bed dip as Sam sat down, “What?”

“No. Come  _here.”_ Dean patted the pillow next to his head.

Sam laid down next to him and Dean felt puffs of breath over his face. He nestled in closer to his brother. Sam tensed and asked in a warning tone, “Dean?”

“Shh, Sam,” he leaned forward, wrapped his arms around his brother, and kissed him chastely on the lips. Then he pulled back and said, “Night, Sam.”

Dean quickly fell asleep with the warmth of Sam in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Los del Río - Macarena (album A mí me gusta 1994)
> 
> Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2 - PlayStation NA release September 2000 (The soundtracks on these games, man! Check 'em out!)


	4. Chapter 4

Momentarily confused, Sam woke again tangled in Dean’s blankets and with his brother not far from him. Dean was breathing heavily, still deep in sleep when Sam reached his foot to the floor as he crept away from the bed. Not wanting to get caught, he quickly retreated from Dean’s room to the bathroom for a shower and got ready for the day.

After eating breakfast, more like lunch since it was noon, he wasn’t surprised to be the only one awake. Dean had crashed hard.

When the phone rang with Tyler on the other end they made plans for him to pick Sam up. After  he heard the car honk outside Sam quickly scratched a note for Dean and left with the door swinging shut hard behind him.

Sam crawled in the front seat of Tyler’s car, “Hey man.”

“Winchester. You take care of that brother of yours?” Tyler asked, pulling the car into drive, accelerating away from the duplex.

Sam laughed, “Yeah, he apparently had no problems finding Nasa last night. He’s still passed out in there.”

Tyler nodded, “Respectable.” He turned to Sam, “So, you like hiking?”

“Hiking?”

“Well, not  _‘hiking’_  hiking. There are these trails near the river. Kids go out there on the weekends to get wasted and screw.” Tyler quickly added, “Not that- that’s  _not_  why I want to take you out there! The trails are cool if you like walking them.”

Sam bit his lip studying Tyler’s face watching a blush slowly rise high on his cheeks. “Yeah, in the light of day kind of awkward, huh?”

Tyler squeezed the wheel and stared straight ahead, “Yeah. Do we need to talk about last night? Because if we could just not do that, that would be awesome.”

Laughing Sam replied, “I’m good man. Everything is cool here.”

Tyler relaxed and scratched his head, “Yeah, that was kind of… new for me. Looking back probably wasn’t worth it.”

“I was that bad, huh?” Sam teased.

“No!” Tyler fumbled, “No, you were fine. That was…  _fine._  I just meant Ryan and Stacy. They were practically all over each other the rest of the night after you left. We wouldn’t have had to- Why the hell am I talking about this?”

Sam shook his head. “So what’s the deal with Ryan anyway?” He asked. “Why did she want me there?”

“She wants to hook up with you, dude.”

“What? Really?  _Why?_ ”

Tyler shrugged, “I dunno. I told her I’d set you up. You want to do a group date thing? Tomorrow maybe?”

“Um,” Sam shook his head contemplating. “Yeah, I guess. What would we do?”

“Bowling sound okay?”

“Sure.”

“Cool.”

Sam nodded awkwardly, looking out the window as Tyler continued to drive. He cleared his throat, “So, these trails, huh?”

Tyler smiled, “Yeah, they’re cool.”

They continued to talk as the awkwardness of the situation slowly eased away. Sam found himself genuinely having a good time with Tyler. He was smart, and funny, and Sam tried to push to the back of his mind that he had his tongue down his throat merely hours ago. He talked a lot about Ryan having a crush on him. Sam thought about it and decided he was interested in seeing where that went. At the very least it would take his mind off of Dean for a while.

The trails were cool, just as Tyler had said. Each had their own names, Thirty-One Bumps, a trail with an uneven path but that decidedly did not actually have ‘thirty-one’ bumps. Another was called Vampire Hill which Tyler assured him only got the name due to the gazebo on the hill that had a good view of the moon at night. Sam was a bit relieved that the origin wasn’t based on anything supernatural because he definitely did not want to work a hunt. He pointed out that if it had such a great view of the moon it should be called ‘Werewolf Hill’ and Tyler agreed although, they both decided that was a much less ominous name.

Since Sam had been training with Dean he found his endurance was back up. Tyler, however, wore out quickly exploring the trails. Sam had a good time making himself exhausted while hiking the trails and he especially enjoyed not having to track any creature while doing it.

In that moment Sam found himself very grateful for Tyler. He was giving him a normal teenage experience which he quietly added to his short mental list. He wanted to remember that day for a long time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

While Dean was watching TV on the couch Sam stalked in late. He grabbed a few of his textbooks from the kitchen table and sat next to Dean.

“You were out all day,” Dean noted.

“Um, yeah. Just hangin’ with Tyler.”

“He was the kid from the party?”

“Yeah,” Sam said opening his textbook. “He set me up on a double date for tomorrow.”

Dean froze, “With those girls from the party?”

“Uh, huh,” Sam mumbled around the pencil between his lips.

“Oh,” Dean tensed next to him. “Well, that’s...  _good,_ ” he crossed his arms and tucked his hands in nervously.  

Sam shrugged, “I guess.”

Sitting in uncomfortable silence, Dean couldn’t focus on the TV. It  _was_  good. Sam had a date. That was…  _good._  Dean  _knew_  it was good. He forced himself to ignore the nagging reaction in his stomach. The instinctual feeling telling him those girls weren’t good enough for his brother, no one was, and why the hell was Sam looking anyway?

Clearing his throat, Dean asked, “Didn’t they seem a little wild for you?”

Stopping abruptly, Sam looked up at Dean curiously. “Wild?” He asked skeptically amused. “More wild than one-night-stands with college coeds or more wild than hunting ghosts?”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Or more wild than constantly reassuring my brother that,  _no,_  I do  _not_  have any drugs for him,” Sam smirked.

“Alright! Alright! You made your point. You’re the embodiment of teenage rebellion. Have fun with the hoodrats.”

“I’ll let you know when I get inducted into the gang and need to start borrowing your leather jacket,” Sam shook his head and looked back to his homework but Dean could see the smile peeking out from under his hair.

“And I don’t ‘constantly’ ask you for pot, dude,” he scoffed.

“Especially not now that you found yourself a dealer,” Sam quipped.

Dean smiled, “That Nasa kid had some quality shit for a high schooler.”

Scribbling something in his notebook Sam replied dully, “That’s fantastic, Dean.”

Dean huffed and waited for Sam to continue the conversation. He shifted nervously when he realized Sam was done talking. “So, you like that Kyle girl?”

“It’s  _Ryan_ ,” Sam replied annoyed. “And I don’t know. I don’t really know her. Tyler says she has a thing for me or something. Figure I’ll go. Get’s me out of here anyway.”

“What’s wrong with  _here?_ ” Dean asked defensively.

Sighing, Sam lifted his head to look at Dean, “Nothing, Dean.  _Here_  is fine.” He shook his head and went back to work.

“So, when’s the date?”

“Hmm, tomorrow,” Sam answered still distracted by his notebook. 

Annoyed Dean asked, “Didn’t you  _just_  see her last night?”

“Dude,” Sam sighed loudly, dropping his pencil. He looked up to Dean irritated, “What’s with the third degree?”

“Can’t I take an interest in my brother’s life?”

“Well, if you’re so interested, right  _now_  your brother would like to finish his homework.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Fine.” He stood from the couch.

“You don’t have to leave.” Sam shrugged, “Just… don’t talk to me.”

“Gee thanks. How about breathing? Can breath?” Waving his hand he added, “Nah, I’m goin’ in to work early tomorrow so I should probably crash anyway.”

“Yeah, that fourteen hours last night didn’t quite cut it, huh?”

“Smartass,” shaking his head, he turned and walked away hiding his smile.

Dean fell into his bed trying his hardest not to think about Sam’s date. It was good his brother was going out with someone. With a girl. That was good. That was exactly what he wanted. But when he thought back to his own high school extracurriculars it made Dean’s stomach churn. If Sam was going to be doing a fraction of what  _he_  had been doing at his age he  _should_  be proud of him. Any big brother would be. He  _was_  proud. Really.

Dean almost even managed to convince himself of it before falling asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day Tyler picked Sam up for their double date. After agonizing over every detail of his appearance, he reluctantly made his way to the car. The more time he had to think about it the more uncomfortable Sam became. He hadn’t really been on many actual dates before and he didn’t know Ryan practically at all except that she apparently enjoyed making out with her friend Stacy.

“So, what’s the deal with Ryan and Stacy?” He asked Tyler as he drove to pick up the girls.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you said they were pretty friendly all night after I left the party. What’s up with that?”

“You know how it is,” Tyler smiled. “They just kind of like the attention.”

“Really?  _Interesting_  way to get it.”

“Yeah, but it works, right?”

“I guess.”

Tyler pulled up to Stacy’s house and honked the horn. The girls came out and piled into the back seat of the car. After Sam and Tyler greeted them he pulled the car into drive and drove them to the local bowling alley.

The date continued about as good as Sam could have hoped but having never really dated he had nothing to compare it to. At the very least he didn’t embarrass himself. Sam wasn’t sure he and Ryan were very compatible, however. Anytime he tried to start a conversation he found it difficult to hold. Ryan was perfectly nice but they just didn’t seem to have any chemistry. For as much as Tyler had been talking her up, Ryan seemed fairly indifferent to him. Sam figured maybe she was just shy so he kept at it, asking questions and being attentive. The date ended as dull as it started.

As the next few days passed Tyler kept pestering Sam during lunch to go out with her again the next weekend. “She had a lot of fun last time!” Tyler insisted.

“I dunno, man. She’s nice and everything but I just don’t feel like we really connected.”

“‘Connected?’ What does that mean?” Tyler nudged his shoulder. “You think she’s hot, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s not-” Sam leaned forward and continued to explain, “We just didn’t have anything in common. And if she’s as into me as you say then how come she doesn’t try to talk to me in the hall? Or why doesn’t she sit at our table for lunch?”

Tyler waved him off, “You’re over thinking it, dude.”

“Well, whatever.” Sam shook his head. “She’s nice and all but I think it’s better if we’re just friends.”

Tyler nodded to himself. After a long pause he asked, “Alright well, what do you think about just you and me hanging out Friday night?”

Considering it for a moment Sam nodded, “Sure.”

They made plans to go hiking through the trails again. This time at night for Sam to get the full effect of Vampire Hill. Sam was glad the week passed quickly. Classes weren’t particularly challenging but he was still relieved to have a break from his classmates. They weren’t horrible to him but besides his friendship with Tyler he didn’t really feel like he fit in, which was, admittedly, par for the course. He was in a perpetual state of never fitting in. It was difficult for Sam to reach out and make friends when he knew they’d be leaving soon so he didn’t try much anymore.

He and Dean still hadn’t heard from John, which didn’t surprise Sam, but Dean grew increasingly irritated over it. Things were no longer as awkward between the two of them but that didn’t mean that Sam had forgotten anything. After the party Dean had kissed him. Again. Sure it had been ‘innocent’ but Dean had wanted Sam in his bed. And thinking about it made Sam’s stomach flutter. He knew better than to sleep in his brother’s bed but he couldn’t make himself leave that night. Just being close to him was enough.

He tried not to think about what that meant. If Dean was lonely and wanted someone near him or if it was  _Sam_  he wanted in his bed. It did no good to even ponder, but Sam thought about it endlessly. Each time Dean pursued anything between them he had been drunk and immediately regretted it when he sobered up. Sam couldn’t help but wonder if he was just a convenient body for his brother, easy enough to forget who he was while he was wasted. That’s how it had started with their friendly jerk-off sessions and Sam hadn’t given it a second thought then. No matter how hard he willed his brain to stop, it was constantly badgering him. Dean blowing him was a huge fucking deal but maybe if he only thought of Sam as another warm body, maybe it wasn’t as bad as Sam had first imagined?

While he was laying in his own bed at night there were so many times he tried to will himself to get up and creep back into Dean’s bed. Being close to Dean made him feel a warmth he had seldom felt in his life. Contentment on a deeper level. Sam wanted to crawl in his bed  _so_  damn bad but he was terrified of where it might lead. Hell, he  _knew_  where it would lead. He knew where he  _wanted_  it to lead.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself that the sinking feeling in his stomach was from what he and Dean had done on a purely physical level, he knew deep down that it wasn’t that simple. Those thoughts, and  _those_  feelings were not ones he was prepared to scrutinize.

Though he would never admit it, he already knew he was the freak with a crush on his brother.

On some level, in the depths, the catacombs of his mind, Sam was aware of the intensity of his attraction towards Dean. He rationalized it over and over again that if things were different, if he and Dean hadn’t lived their lives, neither one of them would feel the draw to one another. For as long as he could remember, Dean was the only solid, positive force in his life. He gave him everything. They were best friends because they were the only ones that knew what went bump in the night. Sure their dad and other hunters knew, but no friends. The few he made over the years were purely superficial anyway. Sam couldn’t tell them about their life. As far back and he could think, it was only Dean. Partners in crime quite literally. And it was John’s goddamn fault for making them live like that.

All he needed to do was get through the school year. He had submitted several applications, with help from Bobby, and now he just needed to wait for the response. They wouldn’t come for months but Sam decided, no matter what, he was out of the family business. No more hunting. If he couldn’t find a way to enroll in college courses he’d find a tech school. Or he’d start working. Anything was better than this life and all he needed to do was wait it out.

But in the mean time he was faced with his brother and the impossible task of ignoring every fiber of his being, his darkest instinct that screamed at him to crawl into that goddamn bed each night.

He was relieved that he had Tyler to distract him. When he picked him up on Friday night they started exploring through the trails like they had planned. The paths were narrow and Sam had to fight to see through the thickly wooded area. Branches stuck out at all angles and he was forced to crouch the whole way to Vampire Hill lest he lose an eye. Sam had to admit, it did have a different aura about it at night but with all the hunting he had under his belt it wasn’t that impressive.

When they finally entered the clearing of Vampire Hill, Sam saw the familiar gazebo sitting on the mound in front of an opening that created a large natural window showing the moon. It reflected off the river below, a bright illumination in an otherwise darkened night. It opened to a steep drop leading to the cold water. Tyler lead him past the gazebo towards the opening where he sat at the edge, feet laying down the hill pointing towards the river.

Sam sat next to him, kicking a beer can over the edge as he did. “Someone was having fun,” he noted. He grabbed a few rocks to throw into the river. “Gross, is that a used condom?” He snickered.

Tyler laughed, “Yeah, dudes bring chicks up here and try to scare their way into their pants.”

Chuckling, Sam added, “Well, at least they’re being safe.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the first thing on their mind.” Tyler leaned back, lying to look up at the stars. Crossing his arms he asked, “You think that really works?”

“Yes,” Sam replied succinctly.

“Winchester, you sound so sure. Got some stories to tell?”

Sam smirked, “Nothing too exciting.”

“No, I’m listening. Enlighten me.”

Sam shrugged and laid back on the ground joining Tyler to have a better view of the sky. “No stories or anything. But I’ve had my share of adrenaline induced situations and you are definitely buzzing after, you know?”

“Not at all,” Tyler smiled.

He’d never considered it before but took a moment to think, “It’s hard to describe. You ever been on a roller coaster?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like that. You know when you get off and you’re all pumped and excited and you just feel hyper aware of everything around you? Like, once the fear is gone you’re just left with the overwhelming consciousness of the absoluteness of your existence. You’re in the moment. And your heart is racing and... I can definitely see how that could lead to... other things.”

Tyler leaned over to look at Sam, “You sound like you’ve been through that a lot.”

Sam huffed, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“What have you-”

“Shh,” Sam interrupted. “Did you hear that?” He whispered.

“What?” Tyler whispered back.

Waiting, Sam heard the noise again, “That! Voices I think?”

“Damn, Sam. You have good hearing.”

Sam sat up and crawled to a kneel. He motioned for Tyler to follow as they crept along the clearing near the treeline. They heard distinct voices as they approached the path.

“Shit,” Tyler swore.

“What?”

“That’s Rebecca,” he hissed. “I kind of stood her up on a date last year and she’s been a bitch to me ever since. She probably has the whole football team with her for a gangbang.” Tyler snuck closer to the trees, “Hey, follow me, yeah?”

Sam turned and trailed close behind Tyler as he navigated into the woods away from the path where Rebecca and the other voices were growing louder. Tyler himself was nearly waking the dead with the raucous he was making, branches snapping loudly underfoot, leaves crunching, and heavy breathing. Sam couldn’t help but shake his head at the lack of experience, but he continued to follow. They made a large loop and found another small clearing in the trees. They were close enough to still see the gazebo from their spot and were covered well enough to go undetected.

“This is kind of fun,” Tyler whispered. “My heart’s racing,” he crouched down low then sat looking out through the trees.

“We’re gonna spy on her?”

“It’s not  _spying._ It’s public land. We have just as much right to be here as she does.”

“It’s after hours.  _No one_  has the right to be here,” Sam replied.

“Semantics.” Tyler’s eyes lit up, “Besides, if they don’t want anyone to see them then they shouldn’t be screwing in public.”

Sam sat down next to Tyler. He could see a girl with long light colored hair pulled back into a high ponytail. There were two guys with her and another girl. They could hear Rebecca laugh obnoxiously. Any concern Sam had about being noticed from the noise Tyler made had disappeared quickly. No one could be heard over her loud cackling.

Tyler shook his head, “You don’t mind waiting them out a bit, do you? This is kind of fun.”

“I feel like a perv,” Sam answered.

“So, don’t watch then,” he shrugged.

Kicking his feet out in front of him, Sam laid back on the ground and tried to focus his eyes to make out silhouettes of the branches in the dark. He couldn’t help but notice that it was exactly something he, his dad, and his brother would be doing on a hunt. Waiting and watching. Listening for noises across the clearing. But somehow it was different. Rebecca and her friends weren’t bait. He wasn’t waiting for something to come out and attack them. He was just laying in the dark with his friend who was being a big creep.

Sam turned to Tyler, “You’re not seriously going to watch them, are you?”

“Hell, no. I just want to wait them out. That’s Danny Beckman and Jonas Schaffer. Probably won’t take them more than two minutes.” Tyler laughed quietly and turned to lay on his back joining Sam.

“Who’s the other girl?”

“Danielle King. They’re the ‘popular’ kids. Everyone hates them.”

“I see.”

Sam turned his head to study Tyler’s profile. He was very clean cut and conventionally good looking. Sam had rolled through many towns and he was a bit surprised to find that Tyler wasn’t considered, strictly speaking, to be one of the ‘popular kids.’

Tyler sat up when they both heard a girl’s voice in the distance say,  _“Let me unhook the fucking thing then. Jesus.”_

Chuckling quietly, Tyler turned back around and when he positioned himself on his back Sam noticed he was much closer. Their arms were touching and through their long sleeves Sam could feel the warmth radiate off of him.

“Jonas is having a little trouble with her bra,” he smiled, breath ghosting over Sam’s face when he turned towards him.

Studying his dark blinking eyes closely, Sam smiled at the twinkle of reflection in them. He knew he should be pushing it out of his mind but he couldn’t help but glance down at Tyler’s lips and think back to their kiss. It hadn’t been like kissing Dean. He didn’t feel that same charge of  _should-stop-can’t-stop._  But now, when Sam heard moaning from the girls in the clearing, he couldn’t help but to get a little turned on and feel the familiar swell in his jeans.

Tyler was studying him back with a vaguely uncertain look on his face. His eyes were wide and it looked like he wanted to bolt as he searched Sam’s face. But instead Tyler leaned closer and dropped his eyes. Both boys breathed heavy, sharing the air between them before Tyler finally closed the space and gently touched his lips to Sam’s.

Sam wasn’t entirely shocked by the act but he was at a loss how to respond since he wasn’t expecting the move.

Pulling away slowly, Tyler swore quietly shaking, “Fuck. Sam. I am so sorry! I didn’t mean-”

Sam ignored him as he leaned closer and met their lips again. This time neither were as timid. Sam’s hands roamed over Tyler’s face and held him firmly into the kiss. Their tongues brushed, warm and curious. He could feel Tyler’s hands roaming over his body resting a heavy weight on his hip. He couldn’t help but get hard as Tyler’s hand started to creep lower to the front of his pants.

It was enough to pull Sam’s attention from the kiss and instead focus on trying to get the boy’s jeans unzipped. Both of them turned frantic. It happened quickly from there as each searched their hands, roaming in a rough frenzy over the other’s body while deepening the kiss. Both bruising their lips, crushing against each other, Sam finally got his fist wrapped around Tyler’s dick and smiled as Tyler winced into his mouth.

Tyler slightly adjusting his position. He pulled away from Sam’s mouth and Sam watched as he lifted his hand to spit into it. Sam continued to pull on his dick as Tyler quickly wrapped his hand around Sam.

He hissed at the firm stroke and shut his eyes tight. Tyler brought his lips back to Sam’s and they continued to kiss deep, tongues lapping over each other, warming each other in the chilled autumn air. It didn’t take long before they were both gasping and writhing on the ground. Sam bit his lip to keep quiet as he came over Tyler’s hand. And Tyler was right behind him.

Sam continued to pull slowly, before he removed his hand. Tyler leaned back, breathing hard, and fell to his back, chest still heaving up towards the night sky.

Sam listened to their mingling breaths, slowly together as they returned to normal over the distant sound of girls giggling. He moved his hands to tuck himself in and zip up, wiping his hand on the side of his jeans. He heard Tyler do the same.

“Fuck,” Tyler breathed quietly.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed nodded in the dark.

A few moments passed before Tyler whispered, “Shit, Sam. I’m sorry, man.”

Sam turned towards him to see Tyler looking terrified towards the sky not meeting his eyes. “Huh?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t mean- That wasn’t supposed to-” Tyler shook his head and turned towards Sam. Finally he said, “I never meant to do that. I am  _so_  sorry.”

Sam considered him, carefully hesitating before asking, “Are you gay?”

“I don’t know. I mean-  _No,_ ” Tyler cowered, turning away. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Sam assured quietly.

“Are you?”

“Um, I don’t think so.” Sam thought for a moment before finally saying, “But this wasn’t horrible.”

Tyler exhaled in relief, “Thank fucking god. I thought you were going to beat the shit outta me.”

“For jerking me off?”

“I don’t know, man. I thought you were straight.”

Sam shrugged, “I  _do_  like girls.”

“But?”

“This was okay too,” he smiled.

Tyler nodded. “Seriously, I never meant to start this. I mean- I  _wanted_  to but I wasn’t  _going_  to.”

Sam thought for a moment, “If you’re gay then what was with the double date? I thought you liked Stacy?”

“Shit,” cringing Tyler covered his face with his hands and turned away. “Okay, I probably owe you an explanation but let me start by once again apologizing. I am, so sorry, Sam.” He sighed before continuing, “ _I_  kind of might have  _possible_  been the one that had the crush on you. Not Ryan.”

Smirking at him, Sam asked, “Really?”

“Yeah, you’re a grade older and you’re really fuckin' hot, man. You have that quiet mysterious thing going on. I didn’t know how to ask you to hang out! And I didn’t know if you would even  _want_  to hang out with me. So Stacy came up with this whole plan-”  
  
“Wait,” Sam interrupted. “Wait, you mean at the party, that whole kissing thing was a set up?”

Wide eyed, Tyler said, “Have I mentioned the part where I’m sorry? I never should have done that! We came up with the idea as a joke but then it all just kind of snowballed. We  _weren’t_  gonna do it, and I didn’t think you  _would_  do it, but then you said it was fine and it was  _actually_  happening.”

Sam laughed quietly, “Why did you keep trying to hook me up with Ryan if  _you_  were the one that liked me?”

“I just wanted to hang! I didn’t think you’d want to. You didn’t want to go to the game with me.”

Smiling, Sam replied, “To be honest, I kind of have a lot more fun hanging out with you alone than I did on that date.”

Tyler smiled wide, “Really?”

Sam shrugged, “It’s pretty obvious Ryan isn’t into me.”

“So,” Tyler breathed nervously, “You and me, we’re cool then?”

“Yeah, man. Don’t worry about it.”

Tyler nodded, “Um, I think I can probably find us a way out of here to avoid Rebecca.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Sam followed quietly behind Tyler as he led them through the thick wooded area and back to the main path. They continued to walk in silence until they reached Tyler’s car where they drove back to the duplex also in utter awkward silence.

Sam wasn’t sure what to think. Tyler was attractive and Sam figured that he was attracted  _to_  him. It definitely wasn’t unpleasant. And Dean kept telling him to get laid. On the drive back Sam decided that overall it was definitely a positive experience. A  _normal_  high school experience. Making out, fooling around in the woods,  _not_  hunting monsters.

Normal.

When Tyler parked the car outside of the duplex Sam paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the door handle. Clearing his throat he said, “So, this was-” he let the sentence hang in the air.

“Yeah,” Tyler nodded nervously.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. He waited another moment before adding slowly, “This was  _good._  I had a fun time tonight. And I was thinking… maybe we could… I dunno, hang out again?”

“What?” Tyler asked incredulously.

“Tomorrow?”

“You’re really cool with this?”

“I had fun, man,” Sam admitted. “You went to a lot of trouble just to spend time with me and, I dunno. I had fun,” he repeated. “I’m trying not to think too hard about it.” Sam scratched his head, “So, tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Tyler smiled wide in disbelief. “Tomorrow sounds great.”

Sam smiled and opened the door. Stepping out he turned around, leaning in he said, “See you tomorrow then.” Closing the car door firmly, Sam walked into the duplex smiling.

He had a decidedly weird but good night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean knew better than to press his luck with Sam. His brother  _finally_  had a social life. He was finally going on dates with girls and hanging with kids his own age. Dean should be relieved. He  _should_  be but instead he found himself frustrated as hell. He’d either come home from work to an empty house or to a completely full house. That Ryan girl and her friend and that boy, all crammed in on the couch together trying to watch something stupid on TV. But as soon as he left the room he knew what they were really up to. Even with the girls gone, that Tyler kid seemed to practically live with them now. It gave Dean a burning, sinking feeling in his stomach that he didn’t want to identify so to solve that problem he chose not to be around them.

So what? Sam had friends. And a little girlfriend. That was fine. That was good. Dean just found himself more and more frequently spending time at the local bars. He still preferred the dives but it was harder to meet women as the only ones there were middle aged ex-wives of bikers. Not quite the type Dean was looking for.

When he was feeling really desperate he’d hit one of the wilder joints, however, in a town like New London there wasn’t much of an option. Now though, even when he hit the bar scene he almost never got drunk. He knew that too was dangerous a path. He had a difficult enough time staying out of Sam’s room at night when he was sober let alone coming home shit-faced when his inhibitions were low.

And it was going on almost a month since Dean had heard anything from John. Anytime he brought up the subject with his brother, Sam would roll his eyes and say he was overreacting. Their dad had been gone that long before but he  _always_  checked in, or had another hunter check in for him. But they really should have heard  _something_  by now and it pissed Dean the hell off that Sam didn’t give a damn.

Sam was so involved with his new friends or homework that he didn’t have time to worry about anything else. Dean was trying to remember not to resent him for it. They had come so far since the summer and he did not want to fuck it up. So Dean let himself brew. It’s not like Sam was gone entirely even if he was no longer training with him in the mornings since he was too tired from constantly being out too late with his friends the night before. And he wasn’t watching TV with Dean either because any other free time he had was dedicated to homework.

Dean needed to remind himself that it was a good thing. Sam needed it. He  _needed_  a normal life, the best they could manage at any rate. And the fucked up shit between him and his brother was obviously not part of that.

He finally found himself alone with Sam for what  _seemed_ like the first time in weeks. It was the beginning of the third week in October and the air was consistently brisk making it perfect for a run but also harder to find motivation to go out into. Dean could no longer convince Sam to go with him.

“Have you been doing  _any_  training?” Dean asked curiously.

Sam looked up from the kitchen table and around into the living room to meet his eyes. “Uh, not really?” He said biting into his sandwich.

Dean huffed, “Don’t make me get on you, dude.”

Sam choked back his food and looked at Dean, face turning red.

“About  _training!_  Not...  _that!_ ” Dean stammered, “I didn’t- That’s not what I meant!” Turning away from his brother, more than slightly mortified, Dean couldn’t watch as he saw a smirk rise on Sam’s flushing face. Dean rubbed his own with his hands and considered himself lucky that Sam didn’t respond.

Shaking his head, Dean internally chastised himself. He was normally careful about his word choice but lately all he could think about was when he’d hear from John again. His mind was in a constant state of preoccupation. Not knowing was always the worst and he could feel his stomach knotting up with apprehension. So to battle his miserable perseveration he spent much of his free time training, then waiting for a call, while he wasn’t hitting the town. But because it was Monday, and cold as fuck on that particular day, Dean didn’t want to leave the house which only caused his anxiety to rise higher.

Instead of attempting more conversation with his brother, Dean nervously flipped through channels on the TV attempting to busy himself. Every few seconds he glanced up to watch Sam. His blush had faded and he was finishing his supper. When he saw Sam start to move and look his way he quickly snapped his eyes back to the TV.

With a clatter of a plate in the sink, Sam emerged from the kitchen and walked towards the couch. He sat next to Dean, legs nearly brushing. “What’s on?”

“Oh, are you gracing me with your presence today?” He teased sarcastically.

Sam scoffed, “I see you all the time.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Just thought you’d be with Tyler or your little girlfriend.”  
  
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Sam coughed and fidgeted next to Dean, “Actually, she’s not so much into guys. Remember that dark haired girl at the party? That’s  _her_  girlfriend.”

“Really? Awesome!” Catching his brother’s eyes Dean leered, “I take everything back. They can come over anytime they want. In fact, maybe you should call them right now and find out what they’re up to.” Dean lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

“I know what you’re implying and to be honest they’re kind of into that but,” Sam scratched his head awkwardly, “Well,  _you know_  what they’d say to you wanting to watch them.”

“I do?”

“Don’t you remember the party?”

Dean shrugged.

Sam coughed awkwardly, “Oh, um well, they’re just a bit ‘quid pro quo.’”

“I got more than enough lovin’ to go around, Sammy,” Dean smirked.

“Um, no. Not that,” shifting uncomfortably Sam replied. “They’d want to see  _you_  with-” Sam turned away and continued, “-another guy.”

Dean immediately snapped his head away from his brother trying desperately to focus on the TV. “What the hell? That doesn’t even make sense!” He attempted to hold his faltering voice. “If they’re lesbains  _why_  do they want to see guys together?”

Sam shrugged stiffly, “Maybe they’re bi? I don’t know! I didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t ask? What, so, have you been watching them fuck around? Is that why the four of you hang out?” Dean shook his head angry, moving to position himself to meet his brother’s eyes directly, “Is  _that_  what you’ve been doing with Tyler? You takin’ turns putting on a show for each other?” He could feel his heart beat faster at the thought of Sam doing that with someone else. With another  _guy_. He had felt irrational enough when he thought Sam was dating Ryan but now he was nearly shaking. Dean knew he had no right to claim that part of his brother but he couldn’t help the way he felt.

“No, Dean! I’m not a perv like you.  _I_ have zero interest in watching them together. Besides, they make out around us all the time for free anyway so it’s not like Tyler and I have to do anything to see a show.” Sam’s face was a bright shade a red, “They’re my friends, okay? So we just hang out.”

Dean shook his head disbelieving and turned to glare at the TV.

Both boys sat in forced painful silence. Dean didn’t really know anyone who was bisexual. Or if he did they weren’t advertising it. His heart began to race as he thought about what exactly that meant. Obviously, whoever the hell was bi was into both men and women. He swallowed the lump in his throat wondering if that applied to him. Sam was the only guy Dean had ever seriously done anything with _or wanted_  to do those things with. But it was  _Sam_. He had zero interest in guys. He couldn’t imagine finding Brad Pitt hot. Sure he was good looking or whatever, but it’s not like Dean was looking to hop on his dick.

In slight panic, Dean suddenly paged through the history sexual encounters he could remember for any indication that he was anything other than straight. He  _wasn’t_  into gay shit. Though, now that he was properly thinking, there was that time with Rhonda Hurley just a few years ago and her unforgettable pink satin. Not that he liked  _that,_ but if he did- if a tiny, microscopic part of him just  _might_  have slightly been okay with it, was that supposed to mean something now?

And what the hell, was Sam suddenly bisexual too? Was the whole freaking world going insane? Did each hook up Sam and Dean have together take them one step closer to this strange, fucked up place, where Dean was full of self doubt?

Adjusting himself on the couch, Dean’s blood was rushing through his veins with self consciousness. He knew even if Sam wasn’t looking directly at him they were both thinking about the goddamn elephant in the room sitting right the hell between them. It made his heart race and his palms sweat and he tried to shift away from Sam without seeming obvious. Dean quickly flipped through the channels trying to find anything to interrupt the uneasiness between them.

After calming down he finally he found a good distraction. Dean turned reluctantly and met his brother’s eyes. “Hey,” he cleared his throat, “Sylvester Stallone.” He put on his best cocky smile.

“Seriously?” Sam lifted an eyebrow

“Come on, Sammy, it’s Sylvester Stallone!”

“This isn’t  _Rocky,_  Dean. This is  _Judge Dredd._ ”

“Stallone always gets a pass,” Dean smiled wide and forced himself to settle into the couch, trying his hardest to appear relaxed. “ _Judge Dredd_  isn’t  _that_  bad.”

“Uh,  _yeah_  it is,” Sam deadpanned.

“You want me to turn it?” Dean hesitated.

Sam crossed his arms, “No, no it’s fine.”

Dean smirked, “Don’t lie, you totally love it.”

Sam scoffed and flipped him off.

It was difficult for Dean to focus on the movie. Sam kept shifting next to him and Dean wanted to sprawl but they both were trying fiercely to avoid contact. Dean’s palms were still sweating no matter how much he rubbed them on his jeans and he kept blinking his attention away from his brother and back to the screen. Not that he was missing cinematic gold between stolen glances.

About halfway through, Dean tried conversation again, “So, no homework today?” It was forced and awkward even to Dean’s ears making him cringe at how much it sounded like something a guidance counselor would ask.

“Nah,” Sam scratched his arm. “The end of the quarter is coming up and besides tests most of the classes are doing projects. I’m done with mine. I probably could be studying, though.”

Dean nodded.

Sam fidgeted and asked, “So… do you think we’ll be in New London another quarter? The full semester this time? You still haven’t heard anything from Dad?”

Eyeing him from the side Dean said, “No, man. I’m really starting to freak out. I’m thinking about making some calls.”

“Bobby? Caleb?”

“Yeah, Jim too. Hell, maybe even Michelle has heard something.”

Sam nodded to himself. After a moment he assured, “You know Dad. He’s probably fine, Dean.”

Dean was seriously beginning to doubt that. He forced any dark thoughts from playing out in his mind, “I’m thinking I might head up there if I don’t hear anything soon.”

“To Canada?”

“Yeah.”

Sam moved to sit on the edge of the couch, turning to look back at Dean. “Hey, man. Don’t start to get too worried yet, okay? Make the rounds and we’ll come up with a plan if we still don’t hear anything by the beginning of November.”

Scoffing, Dean turned his body towards his brother, “After not hearing from him for almost two months?  _Then_  we’ll think of something? Sam, Dad could be held in, like, a freaking torture room somewhere.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “It was a poltergeist or something, wasn’t it? Are they big on kink these days? I must have missed training the day we learned that.”

Dean furrowed his brow annoyed and kicked Sam’s foot, “Sam, this is serious. He could be bleeding out on the floor of an old abandoned house for all we know and you don’t even give a shit.”

Pursing his lips, Sam shook his head and turned away, “Look, Dean, I just don’t think it’s time to worry yet. Everytime he leaves on his own it gets longer and longer. Before you start freaking out give Bobby a call, alright? I promise you, I will load up the car myself and we can drive straight through the border and track him down if we need to. Just give it some more time, okay?”

Dean crossed his arms and leaned back. He eyed his brother doubtingly, “You’d really come with me?”

Focusing his eyes intently on Dean, Sam spoke boldly, “Of course, Dean! I don’t want anything bad to happen to him. I just, I don’t have the same faith in him as you do.” Sam leaned back against the couch causing it to jostle Dean. “His track record has more marks in the ‘Inconsistent Parenting’ column than in the ‘Something Supernatural Kicked John’s Ass’ column.”

Dean studied his brother’s face, searching his eyes. Finding that Sam was sincere, he nodded and adjusted himself into the couch. Sam shifted over nudging his shoulder deliberately against Dean’s. A small comfort but Dean couldn’t believe how relieved he felt at the reassurance. After a long moment Dean finally spoke, “If we don’t hear anything by November, I’m going up there, Sam.”  

The rest of the movie occurred without much incident. Dean continued to pretend that he was paying attention and he was pretty sure Sam was doing the same. When it was over Sam dismissed himself to his room to study and crash for the night.

It wasn’t long before Dean gravitated to the phone and began going through the list of hunter’s in his mental rolodex. With no success from the initial call to Bobby, he didn’t have much hope for the others but he still continued to inquire about the potential whereabouts of John.

Calling it a night, pretending that he wasn’t completely defeated, Dean trudged to his room to crash on his bed where he decidedly did not think about what Sam was doing all the time hanging out with a couple of hot lesbians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief shout-out to Rhonda Hurley and the infamous pink satin panties! - 5.04 The End
> 
> Judge Dredd 1995


	5. Chapter 5

Repression is something that Sam would very confidently say the Winchesters were masters of. Sam recently had been practicing this talent frequently while around his brother. And then Dean called him out on it. He directly asked if Sam was fooling around with Tyler and Sam lied. Technically, Sam justified to himself, he didn’t  _lie_. Dean had asked if he was doing anything with Tyler so they could watch Ryan and Stacy. And they weren’t. They hadn’t been. All four might have been using each other to keep what  _was_  going on on the down low, but Sam hadn’t been hooking up with his friend in order to watch the girls mess around.

Sam almost felt satisfied knowing that it wasn’t a complete lie.

After the movie night with his brother he decided to stay out of the house for a few evenings and at the very least he didn’t invite his friends over. It was easier to avoid the issue if he could just  _avoid_ the issue _entirely._  But by Friday night Sam was back to having Tyler around the house again.

After the night in the woods Sam had decided just to roll with it. He was as confused as hell about his feelings for Dean and Sam figured that by acting some of it out with Tyler maybe it would help clear whatever was going on in his mind.

It wasn’t really working, however.

Tyler was a great guy. He was funny, and attractive, but his feelings for his friend stopped there. Even though he tried not to, he continually found his mind drifting back to Dean while they were messing around. They quickly made a habit of  _‘listening to music’_  in Sam’s room. Alone.

Hell, it always started out as listening to music at least. But Tyler would soon stand between Sam’s legs as he was sitting on the bed. Sam would look up at him and Tyler would meet their lips and push him back, laying on top of him. He was reluctant to push it too far with Tyler, though his friend would gladly go the distance. His friend had no problem with dealing out jobs both hand and blow, and on several occasions he more than hinted at Sam that he’d like to try some other things. Something was gnawing at the back of Sam’s mind to not let it go past that.

Sam knew what it was. He knew that it was the feelings he had for his brother causing him to feel so reluctant. He never voiced it even to himself, however. He let the knowledge lurk in the murky depths of his mind without allowing any coherent thought to it.

Sometimes when he’d see his brother step out from the shower, unaware that Sam was home, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. It was cliche as hell and his brother would kill him for thinking so, but Dean was simply the most beautiful person Sam knew. In his heart and out. He was so damn selfless when he wasn’t being a dick, and Sam truly admired him for wanting to help people the way he did. As a kid Sam figured it was his job to be in awe of his big brother, enough for the entire human population, since the world would never know what kind of hero Dean was. But that admiration was now tainted and twisted into an appalling desire. One that Sam pretended he knew nothing about.

So he kept up the thing with Tyler even while knowing his feelings weren’t really in it. He continually assured himself that all he needed to do was get through the school year and he could leave without destroying the fragile relationship he and Dean had created together.

But Sam was increasingly concerned about Tyler. He didn’t want to lead him on, and he wasn’t. He really did like the kid, but he suspected Tyler was in a bit deeper than he was.

On Friday Sam found himself laying back listening to Top 40 with Tyler on his bed. Dean was gone, work probably or maybe a bar. Tyler turned on his side using his hand to prop his head and smiled sincerely at Sam.

Sam cleared his throat and looked away, “Hey, um, I just wanted you to know, I really have a good time hanging out with you.”

Tyler’s eyes lit up and he breathed, “Me too, Sam. Sometimes I still can’t believe it kind of worked out like this.”

Laughing awkwardly to himself Sam continued, “Yeah, I’ve been having a lot of fun-”

“But?” Tyler’s smile dropped. “Is this a ‘see ya later’ speech? I gotta say I enjoyed the first part of this conversation much better.” He bit his lip nervously.

“No,” Sam shook his head smiling. “Not that. I just want you to know I’m having fun with you but I don’t want you too get too attached.”

Tyler’s smile dropped further.

“I’m not explaining this well,” Sam turned to his side and propped himself up, mirroring Tyler. “I told you we move around a lot, right?” Tyler nodded. “Well, honestly we leave at the drop of a hat. There might come a day when you stop by and we’re gone entirely. Without a trace.”

He shook his head, “You won’t even say goodbye?”

Sam bit his lip, “I’d like to. My dad just doesn’t usually give us time for long goodbyes. I’ll try if I can but it’s just important for you to know that I’m glad we hung out and I’m glad you’re an evil bastard that tricks innocent guys into making out with you.” Sam teased, lightly smacking Tyler’s chest with the back of his hand.

Tyler laughed, “Yeah, man. It could have gone an entirely different direction so thanks for letting me have my way with you instead of the traditional drawing and quartering.”

“I’m only in it for the blow jobs,” Sam smirked.

Tyler rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I believe that.” He paused before breathing in, “So, I’ve been meaning to ask, what is it  _exactly_  that your dad does again? Why is he never here?” Sam groaned and rolled on his back. “I mean, you  _have_  a dad, right? I  _never_  see him.”

Sam rubbed his hands over his face, “I can’t tell you how much I really _hate_  this conversation because no one ever believes me and I never really know what to say.”

“Okay, well now I’m intrigued and you  _have_  to tell me,” Tyler smiled shifting closer.

Rolling his eyes Sam said, “Alright, but if you don’t believe me, I don’t give a damn, okay? You can take it or leave it, I don’t care.” Sam inhaled deep and looked up at the ceiling, “He works for the government. He’s gone  _all_  the time. To be honest, I have no idea where he goes or what he does but they send us all over the country so he can do whatever it is he does.”

Tyler narrowed his eyes and slapped Sam’s chest playfully, “You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“Hey, man. I told you. You don’t have to believe it but that’s the only answer you’re gonna get.”

“Seriously? Like…  _seriously?”_

Sam shrugged.

“So, is he like a spy or something?” Tyler asked.

“No clue, dude. I think it’s more office stuff but like, you know, sensitive classified material or something,” his lie rolled easily off his tongue having years of practice at avoiding the truth.

“I suppose if you told me you’d have to kill me?”

Sam smiled, “Something like that.”

Tyler leaned closer, draping himself over Sam’s chest. Sam looked down at him curiously. “That’s so cool, dude. You just keep getting sexier, coming from a mysterious Bond family.”

“It gets old, leaving all the time, perpetually being labeled ‘the new kid.’ Okay, but anyway, the point I was trying to make with all of this, you stop by some time and I’m not here, it’s not your fault or anything, okay? I don’t mean to ditch you like that but more than likely that’s what will happen. I just wanted you to know before it happens.” Sam bit his lip, “And, um, don’t tell anyone about my dad working for the government. Or at least wait until we go?”

Tyler nodded solemnly, looking down at Sam’s shirt, rubbing a spot absently on his chest. “Yeah, okay,” he said weakly then looked up to meet Sam’s eyes. “I’ll miss you, though.”

Smiling sadly, Sam leaned forward kissing Tyler gently, “That’s why I want you to know I’m having a good time right now.” Sitting up, pushing Tyler to his side, Sam coughed and asked, “Um, so anyway, I was thinking that maybe I could make it up to you?”

Tyler lifted an eyebrow as he settled on his back. Sam adjusted himself, throwing one arm over Tyler’s hip. “Yeah?” He asked.

“I’ve never-” Sam insinuated looking at Tyler’s lap pointedly.

“You want to suck me off?”

Blushing, Sam hesitated, “Uh, if that’s okay?”

Tyler smiled, teasing, “Well, I mean, it’s a sacrifice and you’re a complete charity case but I guess I’ll let you. Only because I’m a  _really_  great guy, though.”

Sam shook his head and rubbed his hand over Tyler’s zipper feeling him start to get hard underneath. “If it’s such a hassle I can go learn from someone else if you-”

“No, no!” Tyler interrupted. “That’s okay. I’ll teach you.”

He was surprised to find giving someone a blow job wasn’t entirely what he had expected. It wasn’t too difficult once he figured out what worked and it wasn’t nearly as disgusting as he expected. Overall, Sam decided that it was definitely something he wouldn’t mind repeating. Maybe more than once. After Tyler returned the favor they laid back on his bed, both smiling feeling perfectly sated.

Tyler lifted an eyebrow suggestively and said, “Remind me next time to teach you about the prostate.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ever since Sam told him about his little girlfriends, Dean couldn’t get it out of his mind. It finally sank in why he thought Tyler was such a creep. He was only hanging out with Sam because he wanted to fuck him. Dean was determined catch the pervert in the act when he saw him next but Sam kept finding excuses to leave the house each time they met up. Dean was resolved to make Sam understand that Tyler was only trying to use him, that he didn’t want to be his friend. It was making Dean’s skin crawl. He knew that Tyler douche wasn’t good for his brother but he wasn’t sure how to prove it to him.

Then he came up with a plan.

He told Sam he would be working late Saturday night and intended on hitting the bars after so not to expect him. Sam barely acknowledged the information but Dean left the house determined to go through with his plan. He got off work early and drove towards the duplex. Dean parked the Impala a couple blocks away and made the walk home.

In the back of his mind he was fairly certain of what he was about to find in the duplex but he couldn’t stop the underlying desperation that maybe his gut was wrong. Approaching the house from the side away from the windows eyesight, Dean crept closer. He peeked into the window to find the living room deserted. Quietly as he could manage, he opened the front door where he could hear some shitty noise that passed for modern rock filtering out from Sam’s room.

 _I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon_  
_After all I knew it had to be something to do with you_  
_I really don’t mind what happens now and then  
_ _As long as you’ll be my friend at the end_

Taking a deep breath, Dean looked at the soft light creeping out from underneath the door to his brother’s room. He could hear Sam laughing on the other side as his fingers brushed lightly against the door. Sam’s laughter quickly turned into something Dean was very familiar with.

Then he heard Tyler moan, “Aw, fuck, Sam. Yeah, right there.  _Shit._ ”

Rage exploded from his fingers as Dean violently threw the door open to see Tyler lying naked on Sam’s bed with Sam, still in his boxers, between his legs with the douchebag’s dick in his mouth.

His heart stopped.

“Jesus, shit!” Tyler jumped back away from Sam as Dean’s heavy feet pounded over and threw his brother off of the bed away from the scumbag beneath him.

“What the fuck are you doing to my brother?” Dean demanded throwing a punch and connecting hard with a loud crack against Tyler’s cheek.

“Goddamn it, Dean! Stop!” Sam yelled grabbing Dean’s arm, holding him back enough to allow Tyler time to grab his clothes and flee from the room.

Dean turned around just as Sam’s knuckles collided hard against his cheek. He wobbled backward knocking into the desk, tipping the radio over and  unplugging it from the wall as it fell to the floor.

Holding a hand to his eye Dean yelled, “You told me you weren’t fucking him! What the hell was that, Sam?” He stumbled closer to his brother.

“Jesus, you’re such a fucking asshole,” Sam pushed hard against Dean’s chest.

Dean held his ground and shoved back, “You’re the one bein’ a fuckin’ bitch. You don’t like girls anymore, is that it? What the hell, you bendin’ over for the first prick you can find? Whatever you can get in your mouth? Did I fuck you up  _that_  much, Sam? ”

“Yeah,” Sam scowled, “I thought,  _‘Hell,_ big brother makes _smokin’ dick_  look so good I gotta try it for myself’.” He spat, “Fuck you, Dean. Not everything is about  _you!_ ”

Dean witnessed the rage well in his brother and with only a moment to react Sam came at him, punching wildly and hard in the wake of his outburst. Dean was able to duck low and knock Sam off balance and back into the bed. Quickly scrambling on top of him, Dean watched Sam’s emotions overcome his training as he struggled, kicking and swearing violently underneath him. Sam tried to push Dean off but couldn’t get enough leverage to move him. Adjusting his feet, Dean hooked his ankle around one of Sam’s, pinning him to the bed. At the same time he grabbed his wrists and held them firmly above his head.

“You’re such a goddamn  _liar,_  Sam,” he shook with anger.

Sam was panting hard, fuming beneath him, “Go to hell. I never told you I wasn’t fucking him.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, seething, “What the hell was all of that with the lesbians? Huh, Sam? Remember that?”

“I said we weren’t fucking to  _watch_   _them,_  Dean.” Laughing bitterly Sam shook his head, “I was too busy with a dick in my ass to pay attention to them.”

Dean choked quietly and lifted himself up to get a better look at his brother. Normally he could read him easily but he never expected to find Sam like that. Not between the legs of some goddamn douchebag. He couldn’t tell if there was truth to the words or if Sam was trying to piss him the hell off. His adrenaline was pumping hard and Dean was suddenly aware that Sam was nearly naked under him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dean leaned back down into Sam’s face. His voice scratched, “Same fucking thing, Sam.”

Sam shifted underneath him, moving his hips, hitting Dean either very wrong or maybe just right. He breathed softly, “Fuck you, Dean.” Sam’s eyes flitted quickly to Dean’s lips.

Sharing a short breath between them before Dean had time to react Sam quickly lifted his head closing the space, lips bruising hard against Dean’s. He could feel Sam writhe up against his hip and was startlingly aware of his brother’s hard cock pushing against him, searching for friction.

Dean, suddenly snapping into action, kissed back fervently pushing Sam back down hard into the bed, pinning him firmly. Sam’s tongue searched his mouth and Dean briefly ignored the thought that Sam had just had that tongue around Tyler’s dick. It furthered Dean to rage harder against his brother and erase any evidence that someone was there before him. Sam was  _his_  and that douchebag kid wasn’t going to get him. Grinding his hips against Sam’s, he felt his brother moan around his tongue as Dean held tighter to his wrists. So hard he was sure they would bruise.

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam breathed against his mouth, now struggling against his restraints.

Dean lifted up searching his brother’s eyes quickly for panic that he was expecting to find. But Sam’s eyes were hooded and blown dark with arousal. His chest was rising and falling beneath him and all Dean wanted to do was feel that skin against his own.

“Take ‘em off,” Sam nodded frantically. “Come on, Dean. Come on,” he begged.

Before giving it any thought, Dean shifted his knees to straddle his brother. He started to pull at his shirt and Sam helped lift the thin cotton shirt. Dean shivered as he felt Sam’s fingers run smoothly underneath as they both struggled to rip it over his head. His amulet fell against his chest, thumping hard.

Sam leaned forward as Dean started to crawl back, hands going for his zipper. Dean was vaguely aware of his brother pushing at him and pulling at the legs of his jeans as Dean kicked himself out of them.

Suddenly, Sam flipped Dean down against the mattress so he was laying back on the bed. For an instant Dean panicked, momentarily convinced it had all been a way for Sam to get the upperhand and out of his restraints. But quickly Sam’s mouth was covering his again and his teeth were biting hard against Dean’s lips. Sam pulled his head back and moved to Dean’s neck causing him to moan.

Dean couldn’t help but notice the way Sam kissed was different than before and he held back his anger knowing that it was because of Tyler. That goddamn kid had been fucking with his brother and Dean couldn’t wait to kick the shit out him. But Sam was sucking on his neck and breathing against his skin giving him goosebumps, pulling him away from thoughts of revenge. He held his eyes closed tight as he felt Sam’s hand reach confidently into his boxers. As Sam’s hand wrapped around him Dean gasped, mouth opening, wincing in gratification. He felt a moment of relief knowing that at least  _that_  was familiar. Something he had desperately been missing.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean arched his back into the bed as Sam squeezed tight, just on the side of too hard. Painful, bitter, and laced with violence. A threatening undertone that was fucking amazing because it was Sam.

He finally focused his attention to Sam’s mouth and realized he was talking against his skin, mumbling into the crook of Dean’s neck, “-such a jealous asshole, Dean. Can’t fuckin’ admit it.”

Dean shook his head but knew he wasn’t going to deny a damn thing. He was trembling underneath his brother and Sam’s mouth began to trail down his chest. As Sam began to position himself between Dean’s legs and started pulling at the elastic of his boxers, Dean’s eyes snapped open in sudden realization of his brother’s intentions.

“Wait, wait, Sam. Stop,” he pleaded. “Stop.” His dick was hard and he could feel his brother’s breath against his skin causing Dean to want anything other than to stop him.

Sam glared at him, seering, with his lips plump full and wet. “No,” Sam refused bitterly. He pulled hard against the elastic tearing them off Dean.

“Sam, please,” Dean begged breathlessly knowing his plea to stop would go ignored. Feeling defeated, Dean knew full well he wasn’t going to fight him.

Ignoring him, Sam instantly wrapped his lips around his throbbing cock not giving Dean another chance to protest.

Dean threw an arm over his eyes and bucked into Sam’s mouth at the unexpected sensation of wet heat  surrounding him. His stomach lifted and fell rapidly and all he could think was,  _Fuck, Sammy, Fuck. Fuck._ He couldn’t help the little pounding thrusts into his brother’s mouth and knowing the way his brother moaned around him was enough to let him die happy.

He knew better than to be doing it at all. He could stop Sam if he wanted. But he didn’t. And this time he couldn’t even use the excuse of being drunk. Sam’s lips were wrapped tight around his dick, bobbing warm and sucking hard, and it was fucking heaven. He couldn’t help but remember, Dean was the one to fuck up his brother enough to think that it was okay to be doing that to him. He didn’t hold back the single tear that escaped from his tightly closed eyes when he came over his brother’s tongue far too soon.

He panted back into the mattress, bringing the heels of his palms to dig painfully against his eyes. Dean trembled as Sam licked slowly over his sensitive skin.

Sam sat up. Dean could tell he was looking at him but he couldn’t move. Frozen, back against that bed, Dean’s eyes burned. Everything was fucked to hell and he wasn’t sure how it kept getting worse.

He felt Sam crawl up the bed and lay next to him, their arms overlapping.

He was so fucking lost. Dean’s heart was clenched in his chest and he just wanted to punch something. He needed pain. To feel something other than the fucked up shit with Sam.

The worst of it was that they had been doing so well.

Dean shook his head. He took a few deep breaths before abruptly sitting up and walking out of Sam’s room, leaving him behind on the bed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam wasn’t sure how long he laid on his bed, staring numbly up at the ceiling. The sun was long since down and it was dark in his room.

Dean was gone, not that he had expected anything different.

Sam was done. He was just completely and entirely done. With everything. Emotionally he was done from hunting. He was done with John’s half assed parenting. He was done with Dean constantly running away.

Most of all, Sam was done with killing himself over whatever the hell was happening between himself and Dean.

So he just laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, forcing his mind into complete blankness. If he allowed himself to think Sam would probably call it bitter meditation.

He was leaving soon. Months. In months from now he’d be gone and Dean would never have to worry about their bullshit again. He was just waiting for his acceptance letter.

At some point Sam must have fallen asleep because he found himself jarring awake at the sound of slamming in the living room.  _Dean._

Sam shook his head and rolled on his side, away from the door to his room. Part of him was relieved he came back. He was half worried that Dean would have taken off for Canada to look for John alone. He listened to the noises in the kitchen as Dean clanked loudly getting a drink then it was quiet once again.

Exhaling, Sam took measured breaths to calm himself.

Then he heard his bedroom door crack open.

Frozen still, he waited as Dean crawled on his bed, under his covers, and laid next to him. Sam could smell the alcohol on him confirming his suspicions. Dean surprised him, however, when he leaned in close and wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist, pulling him back close to his chest.

Sam shivered as he felt Dean’s nose nudge gently against the back of his neck. “I am so sorry, Sam,” Dean’s voice was hoarse and quiet, barely a scratch. Sam remained quiet. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Swallowing down the feeling in his throat, Sam grabbed at Dean’s arms pulling Dean closer against his back.

Exhausted from the day, Sam fell asleep holding his brother solidly in place against him.

When Sam woke up he found himself alone in his bed. He blinked towards the window in his room, the sun long since up.

Stretching his aching muscles, he sat stiffly. Sam blinked and rubbed his wrists until he could focus his eyes on them. There were yellowing bruise marks, finger impressions tight around them. Sam shook his head at the utter insanity of his life and got out of bed.

He was surprised to see Dean still in the house, digging in the fridge. Sam cleared his throat to make his presence known.

Dean looked up and Sam’s jaw dropped, “Holy shit, Dean! I did all of that? Oh my god.” Sam rushed over to his brother. His eyes were bloodshot, one was swollen nearly shut and bruised. He had dried blood on his face and his lip was split.

Clearing his throat, Dean turned back to the fridge, “No. I uh-” he coughed, “I got into a fight at the bar.”

Sam pulled his brother from the fridge and walked him over to a chair at the table guiding him to sit. “Jesus, Dean,” Sam shook his head and his fingers trailed lightly over his brothers injuries. Dean winced as he touched a spot with dried blood.

Walking away from him, Sam quickly fetched their first aid kit. Dean remained where Sam put him as he quickly cleaned the cuts on his face. Sam only felt a little more at ease with the blood now gone. His face still looked a wreck. Sam couldn’t help but shake his head and swallow the lump in his throat. After everything they’d been through, tending wounds was the only thing that could bridge the schism between them.

When Sam handed Dean an ice pack his voice scratched, “Thanks, Sammy.”

Somehow Sam was able to get through the rest of the day and with Dean next to him nearly the entire time. They didn’t talk, not much, but they both seemed to be more at ease knowing the other was near.

Sam figured Dean got a hold of some nice painkillers which explained his amiable mood. But whatever the hell it was, Sam was thankful they were able to make it through the rest of the weekend.

When he arrived at school on Monday he was nervous to see Tyler. He wasn’t sure what to tell him. He didn’t know what to say. Hell, Sam didn’t even know what he wanted. He sure as hell didn’t want his brother to get away with that jealous jackass behavior but it wasn’t exactly fair to Tyler to keep stringing him along. Sam hated that it was actually a good opportunity to cool it with him, assuming they were still talking.

At lunch he was surprised to see Tyler’s tray land next to his at the table. He looked up smiling and then froze as he saw his black eye.

“Shit, Tyler,” Sam ghosted his hand carefully over his eye. Tyler coughed and pulled away from him. Sam quickly retracted his hand. “Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not okay but, Jesus, he didn’t do anything else did he? I am  _so_  sorry.”

Tyler smirked and said, “Nah, I’m fine. Now I got a cool story to tell, Winchester.”

“What, that a psychotic douchebag went berserk on your ass?”

“You should see the other guy,” Tyler winked teasing.

Sam smiled, “I wasn’t sure if you’d even be talking to me today.”

“Dude, I felt like the biggest ass. I just left you there. I thought you might follow me or something. I wasn’t sure if he started attacking you next but it looked like you were handling him okay. I was gonna call but I was afraid it would just cause more trouble for you, ya know? So, you okay, man?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I let Dean have it after you left.” Sam meant that he kicked his ass but he blushed as soon as the words left his mouth.

“So… homophobe? Or what?”

Sam scratched his forehead and looked away, “I dunno, man. We didn’t really talk much after that. I think it was just kind of a shock to walk in on.”

Tyler nodded to himself. They ate their lunch quietly before Tyler cleared his throat and said, “So, Nasa is having a Halloween party this weekend. You in?”

Sam bit his lip nervously thinking about how well that would go over with his brother. But, what the hell. Sam wasn’t going to let Dean get away with his macho caveman bullshit. He wasn’t going to put his life on hold for him. Sam desperately just wanted to have a normal semester. Parties were part of that.

Smiling sadly Sam nodded, “Yeah okay. Um, but, I’ll meet you there. And-” Biting his lip he continued, “We need to, you know, kind of stop hanging out otherwise. Just for a bit.”

Tyler nodded, “Don’t worry, man. I understand.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean started drinking again.

Hell, if he couldn’t keep himself away from Sam when he was sober then being drunk sure as shit wasn’t going to hurt anything. Anything  _more_  any way. He was going to work hungover then coming home and doing it all over again.

And there was still no word from John. No one had heard a thing.

So, Dean started drinking again. At least that kept him numb enough to not have to deal with it.

One week left in October, nearly two months since they had heard from their dad, and Sam was going to a damn Halloween party. Dean had briefly considered showing up to keep an eye on him but he was pretty sure that Douchebag was going to be there. Sam didn’t say and Dean didn’t ask.

He knew his behavior was entirely irrational, even if he  _was_  walking in on Sam with a dude. His baby brother blowing some jackass and Dean was the one to make it all possible. He tried not to spend time wondering if Sam would have been into guys if it weren’t for their history.

The night of the party Dean decided to sleep it all off. He just wanted to go to bed and not have to think about a damn thing.

Around 3:00 AM he woke to Sam stumbling in through the front door. He waited for him to quiet down as he stared into the dark. When he finally thought Sam had gone to sleep Dean had to fight the urge to go into his room. He wanted to know if his brother was still fucking Dickwad but he was afraid of the answer. Instead he stayed, staring into the dark.

His door squeaked open.

“Sam?” Dean called to the dark.

“Dean, can I just sleep here tonight? I just need to be here, okay?”

“What happened?” Dean sat up alert as Sam crawled under his blankets. Immediately he recognized that his brother was completely smashed. “You’re drunk.”

“Yeah.  _So._   _You’re_  always drunk. Thought I’d try it out,” he mumbled sarcastically.

Dean sighed and moved to lay down next to his brother, “So what happen? Your little boyfriend break up with you?”

Sam turned on his side and grabbed distractedly at the shirt Dean was sleeping in, “He wasn’t my boyfriend.”

“Fuckbuddy, whatever.”

“I wasn’t fucking him, Dean!” Sam stated frustrated.

“Pretty sure you were,” Dean said sullenly.

Sam scoffed, “We were doing  _that_ but we weren’t- we never  _actually_  did anything. Not really.” Laughing bitterly he added, “Not really anything more than you and me.”

Dean was suddenly feeling very alert. He had been convinced that Sammy was giving it up for Tyler. Dean cleared his throat and asked carefully, “So... what happened?”

Sam rubbed absently at Dean’s chest. “Everything,” he sighed.

“Care to narrow it down?”

“Tyler was there and he was so good about it, you know? Even after your jealous ass attacked him. He was cool with it, black eye and all, but it just didn’t mean anything, Dean. Nothing does. No one,” Sam leaned closer and nudged his head against Dean’s chest. His voice hitched as he silently admitted, “Just you, Dean.”

Dean moved himself to wrap an arm around his brother and bring him close in what he hoped was a comforting embrace. He inhaled and spoke quietly, “I know, Sam.”

“So, I told him,” Sam exhaled.

Dean panicked, “ _What?_  You told him?! Sam, what did you say?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “I didn’t  _tell_  him. I just said… I don’t know what the hell I said. But I told him we were done.”

“So, if you broke up with him, what’s the problem?”

“He  _wasn’t_  my boyfriend, Dean, Jesus! I didn’t  _break up_  with him. We  _weren’t_  going out!”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Fine. Whatever. Why the hell are you upset if you’re the one that ended it?”

“You know why, Dean,” Sam whined.

Heart clenching, Dean held his breath. He knew perfectly well why.

Sam moved his head and Dean could see his eyes glinting in the dark, “Dean, I just want to be normal. I hate hunting. I  _hate_  living like this. I can’t take it anymore. I just want to go to school and come home and have a normal family and play a stupid sport and go to college and get a job and  _not_  want to fuck my brother.”

Freezing at his brother’s confession, Dean opened his mouth to speak. He wasn’t sure where to begin and even if he knew which statement to touch there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do to make any of it better.

His brother continued, “And don’t say that we’ll be fine, Dean. We’re not fine. Dad screwed us over with this life. He’s the one that messed us up. No one should live like us, Dean. You think mom would have wanted this?”

His stomach lurched. “Sammy,” Dean pleaded, “We save people.”

Sam scoffed, “How come  _we’re_  not worth saving, Dean, huh? Everyone gets to live these normal lives we’re trying to protect. Why do  _we_  have to be the one to sacrifice our happiness? Haven’t we done that enough, Dean? Haven’t we lost enough?”

“We’ve had some good times, Sam. We’re saving lives. We’re  _not_  sacrificing our happiness, are we? Are you really that unhappy?”

Laughing sarcastically, Sam admitted, “This has been the  _worst_  year of my life, Dean.”

Dean swallowed hesitantly, “So, Mom getting murdered comes in second then?”

“Ugh,” Sam rolled hard onto his back shaking the bed. “You know what I mean, Dean! Why the hell did I even come in here? Of course you don’t understand, you’re Dad’s little soldier, always following every order. Perfect son, huh?” He scoffed. Sam turned back on his side to face him biting cruelly, “What do you think he would he think of you if he  _knew?_ ”

Clenching his jaw, Dean ordered slowly, “Go to sleep, Sam.”

“It’s  _not_  your fault, Dean.  _He_  did this to us,” ignoring him he continued, “I want out, Dean. I’m not going to hunt forever.”

“Fine. Good. You can be a librarian like in all your wet dreams. Now, go the hell to sleep.”

Sam was quiet for a moment before Dean could feel the bed move slightly. He realized his brother was crying. His voice cracked, “Dean, what if he’s not okay?”

Realization struck suddenly, Sam was worried about their dad. That’s what it was really about. This whole emotional display was because he was scared. Dean’s heart warmed and he moved closer to his brother, “Sam, we’ll go get him, okay?”

Inching in closer Sam nodded, “Tomorrow we’ll make a plan?”

Dean wrapped his arms tight around his little brother, holding him close to his chest. He rubbed his palm on his arm, trying his best to sooth him. “Tomorrow, Sam. Now, go to sleep.” Dean closed his eyes as he finally felt Sam relax into his embrace.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam woke to the mother of all hangovers, alone, in Dean’s bed. When he could finally drag himself from the bed and get ready for the day he walked into the living room to find his brother on the phone talking to Bobby.

Lifting an eyebrow, Dean waved him off. When he hung up the phone Sam asked, “So?”

“Still hasn’t heard from him. He gave me everything he knew about what Dad was hunting, though, so that’s a place to start.” Dean eyed him suspiciously, “You still wanted to come up with something, right?”

Sam nodded quietly. He cleared his throat, “Um, Dean, I’m not sure if I said anything to you last night- If I was an ass. I’m a little fuzzy on, um, everything.”

Dean nodded and wrote in a notebook he had on his lap, “You were worried about Dad.”

Sighing from relief, Sam nodded, “Yeah, okay. I remember that. I just, I think I said some stuff that I didn’t mean-”

Dean avoided his eyes and said, “Forget it, Sam.” He flipped through the pages of his notebook and pointed on one of the pages, “Here, come look at this.”

Sam listened, the best he could with his massive headache, as Dean filled him in on what John was hunting. He and Dean agreed that they’d keep researching in New London and if they hadn’t heard anything by the time they were done they would head for the border. Sam figured that gave him a little time to recover.

“You okay with missing school? Might take a while crossing the border and all.”

Nodding Sam said, “Wouldn’t be the first time I cut out early.”

They spent the rest of the day calling hunters and taking notes then at the end of the day they received a call from Bobby.

Dean answered, “Hey, did you- You did? Is he okay? Where the hell is- I hope you kicked his ass for me.”

Sam looked up sharply towards Dean.

Dean nodded, “He’s okay, Sam.”

Sam let out a sigh of relief.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Dean demanded.

Sam watched as he continued the call and finally hung up. “What’s going on?” He asked.

“Nothing,” Dean shrugged. “He’s just been having a hard time with this one. He’s not hurt or nothin’. He couldn’t get the damn thing to show. He was waiting it out so finally he asked Bobby for help. Bobby ripped him a new one for us,” Dean chuckled.

“So, wait, he’s  _fine_  and he just couldn’t be bothered to call us? And you wonder why I don’t get along with him? What an ass.”

Dean nodded reluctantly and added, “He’s supposed to call tonight.”

“Yeah, well we’ll see if that happens,” Sam huffed crossing his arms.

After being able to spend the day recuperating, Sam was genuinely surprised to hear the phone ring with John on the other end. Dean answered and got all the information he was going to get out of him. Sam rolled his eyes when Dean “yes sir’d” him and hung up.

“So, good news for you,” Dean said.

“His leg was eaten by a moose and we’re retiring from hunting to somewhere warm?”

“Better,” Dean smirked. “You get to finish out the semester here.”

“Seriously?” Sam sat up properly on the couch watching as Dean walked in to sit next to him.

“Yeah, the damn thing is on a timetable so he needs to wait it out a bit more, then he caught word of a hunt over towards Ohio. He’s gonna head that way after. When you finish the semester we’re supposed to meet up with him.”

Sam hesitated, “He doesn’t want you to meet him right away?”

Dean shrugged awkwardly, “He didn’t ask me to but, if you-”

“No,” Sam interrupted quickly. He knew that he should probably be encouraging his brother to go hunt. It would definitely help clear up some of their problems. But Sam was selfish. This time with Dean was the last of his life he’d be able to spend like this with him. He wanted to hold onto it as long as he could. When he went to college he’d be focused on class and then life generally outside of the paranormal. Rationally, he knew he’d still see his brother, but it’s not like he’d be able to sneak into his room at night after having a bad day. Which, yeah, Sam did understand how screwed up it was, and yes it was good he was getting out of hunting. But this was his last year of it and he wanted to enjoy their time together the best he could.

“I know things are,” he shook his head trying to find the word, “ _Strained_  between us right now.”

Dean looked away, flushing slightly, “Hell of a way to put it.”

“But,” Sam continued ignoring him, “I’m gonna look at it a different way from now on, okay? You can do whatever the hell you want but I’m sick of  _that_  being the end of the world for me. Shit happened between us. Whatever.” He shrugged.

“Can you just  _please_  stop talking, dude?” Dean begged, “ _Please._  Shut the hell up. I ain’t drunk enough for this conversation. I will  _never_  be drunk enough for this conversation.”

Sam crossed his arms petulantly, “We’ve seen little kids  _die,_  Dean, and their mothers ripped apart by monsters. We know what burning flesh smells like. Jesus, we desecrate graves fairly routinely. On a scale of bunnies to the holocaust I think our problems are about a-”

“Level-fuckin’- _incest_ , Sam?” Petulantly Dean turned away.

Sam cringed, not expecting his brother to actually state it so harshly. “It’s better than babies dying, is all I’m saying and really not much worse than the other stuff we do. When we started that shit, at the beginning, we were both fine with it!”

Dean scoffed incredulously, “You’re sayin’ you’re actually okay with this?” His eyes narrowed perniciously, “You hear,  _‘suck my brother’s dick’_  and think, ‘Yeah, why not?’”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying!”

“I dunno, Sam,” despondently he shook his head. Rubbing his mouth he turned back. His face was still faintly pink and his eyes were wide, “Maybe I  _should_  go, okay? Maybe some time apart is what we need. Bobby can find me a hunt.”

“If you need to, then I understand. But  _I_  don’t want you to.” Sam shook his head, “I just want to wait it out this last school year, Dean. Just give me one last year, okay?”

Cautiously meeting Sam’s eyes, Dean nodded. “You change your mind at any time and I can go, alright? I’m serious, Sam.”

“Okay, Dean,” Sam agreed quietly relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down (2000)


	6. Chapter 6

The last five weeks in New London dragged monotonously for Dean. With Sam no longer dating Tyler he was around the house more often. Dean wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not by his brother’s suddenly frequent appearance. The irrational part of his brain, scratching away, fighting, and struggling against his better judgment, was completely overjoyed but Dean knew better than that.

Still, he couldn’t refuse his brother on the nights when he crept into his room and under his covers. Dean figured it was the best compromise they could make, remain close without mutilating any more major social mores. Besides, Sam would always be gone by morning anyway. Dean didn’t hear him leave most of the time. It was an odd comfort between them which neither spoke of in the light of day.

After he had walked in on Sam and Tyler, Dean had been cautiously watching himself with his brother. Shit like that, the outburst and what followed, couldn’t keep happening. That night when he fled he ran to the closest bar and picked the first fight he could find. And it worked. He found himself in a significant amount of pain in the days that followed and it was enough to keep his mind off wanting to screw his little brother. He was able to focus intently on the immorality of it as he should have been.

But as his wounds healed, every time Sam snuck into his room he found it more difficult to ignore. The boundaries between them seemed to blur and it was becoming easy to give into his brother. Sam was warm and soft and Dean couldn’t refuse him when he wrapped his arm around his waist. Dean did have rules, however. Unspoken. In the day, Dean refused to acknowledge sharing a bed and Sam appeared to follow it as well. Night was one thing but it was far too real for him if he had to meet his brother’s eyes in daylight. Dean also never allowed himself to be the one to go to Sam. If his brother came into his bed, then fine. He could be there for him but Dean had ruined his brother enough for one lifetime. He was done being the instigator. It became blindingly clear that he was entirely unreasonable when it came to Sam. He didn’t trust himself. So Dean made his rules and stuck to them.

At least he tried.

Two weeks before they had planned to leave New London, Sam once again crept cautiously into Dean’s bed. Habit and guilt were what Dean figured caused them to be so quiet. They were always the only two in the house but neither one of them felt comfortable enough to do anything other than sneak and whisper at night.  

Shifting over to give his brother room, Dean sighed softly into the dark. He felt the familiar pressure of Sam’s fingers run themselves over his stomach causing him to shiver. His brother’s body was far too rigid next to him. Dean knew something was on his mind but he was too afraid to ask. He listened to him breathe lightly next to him.

“I really miss it, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes and whispered nervously, “Go to sleep, Sam.” He felt his brother crowd in closer, light breaths ghosting over his cheek.

“I’ve been thinking-”

“Three most dangerous words to come out of your mouth,” Dean frowned.

Ignoring him, Sam continued, “We cut ourselves off cold turkey. I think-” Sam moved his palm lower on Dean’s hip.

 _“Sam,”_  Dean warned sternly.

“I think if we just do it like before, it’ll be okay, Dean.”

Dean scoffed quietly, “You  _know_  we can’t.”

“Just this last year, Dean,” Sam pleaded.

“Why? Sam, why do you keep measuring everything in a year? Just because you graduate it don’t mean the rest of this is gonna change. A diploma ain’t gonna cure this.”

Sam sighed, “After I graduate-”

Dean felt his brother’s head nudge into his on his pillow.

“It’s just gonna be different, Dean.”

“Dad won’t make us split up just ‘cause you’re done, Sam.”

“Just humor me, okay? What we were doing before, it was pretty intense.” Dean began to protest but Sam continued, silencing him, “And we just turned it all off, Dean. We didn’t have any place for that to go. We just stopped. Cold turkey.”

Laughing sarcastically, “You didn’t get closure? That what you’re saying here?”

Sam groaned, “Don’t put it that way.”

“How do you want me to put it, Sam?” The air between them instantly grew tense and Dean regretted the words immediately as they left his mouth.

Waiting for a moment, Sam said quietly, “I was just thinking hands but I have a few ideas if you-”

“Ugh, Sam!” Dean tried to push him away but Sam held tight. He could feel his brother laugh quietly to himself which only irritated him further. “We ain’t at a point where we can joke about this!”

Snickering quietly, Sam breathed, “I am.”

“Well, I’m not!” Dean waited until his brother was quiet before he asked, not hiding his annoyance, “Did you have a point to any of this?”

“I want to go back to what we were doing before.”

“Jerking each other off?”

“Yeah,” Sam’s hand slipped lower to the elastic on Dean’s boxers.

“No, Sam.”

“Dean, come on,” he whined.

Heart jumping, Dean couldn’t help but think of it. Sam  _was_  right, they had cut themselves off abruptly. And being around his brother and feeling like he couldn’t even go near him was driving him to an earlier grave. Quite a feat in their line of work. And maybe if they set up rules ahead of time it would be okay.

Hesitating, Dean asked sighing in annoyance, “What are you expecting out of this?”

“Nothing. Just like before. Just, helping each other out, okay? It’s not like you can’t still screw whoever you want, I don’t care, I just can’t keep doing what we’ve been doing. It’s too difficult and I’m a selfish asshole, I know, but I just want some good memories this last school year, okay?” Sam took a deep breath, “I can’t have a good year if we’re fighting all the time, or hell, being worried about accidentally brushing arms.”

“Okay, Sam, I get it.” Dean bit his lip thinking about Sam’s proposal. Sighing, giving in, he said, “We’d need rules.”

“Rules mean we have to talk about it.”

“Yeah,” Dean admitted reluctantly.

“We used to be able to talk about it. I don’t know why it has to be different.”

“Really?” Dean asked sarcastically. “What are you smoking, Sam? We  _never_  used to talk about it!”

Sam sighed, “In depth discussions? No. But we used to at least joke about it.”

Rubbing his eyes impatiently Dean finally said, “So, what do you want?”

“Hands only,” he exhaled. “And then we’ll work our way to stopping, okay? Just, not all at once. It was too big of a change.”

Dean shook his head in the dark, “But we  _are_  going to stop, right? Because, Sam-”

“Yes,” he interrupted confidently. “This is just an easier way. Until we’re used to it.”

He hated to admit it but Sam was actually kind of making sense. They hadn’t given themselves the time to prepare for it ending. Dean knew he was probably just trying to justify it to himself but he was weak and when Sam begged him he couldn’t say no.

Closing his eyes, Dean whispered, “Okay, Sam. But hands  _only._ ” He could feel his brother smiling next to him. “And this is only temporary. We’re gonna stop.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. He moved his hand lower over Dean’s boxers, “Eventually.”

Dean shook his head. “Eventually,” he agreed.

Reluctantly, Dean gave into the temptation his brother was offering. Turning on his side, he allowed his brother easier access to inch his hand past the elastic and hold onto him with a firm grasp. Dean winced at the pressure around his dick.  

Moving his own hand, Dean palmed against his brother’s cock, hard underneath his boxers. As Sam stroked him fully hard, Dean could no longer resist and he reached in to finally wrap his fingers around  his dick.

The whimpering sound his little brother made so close to him had Dean falling deep and breathing hard. He’d miss Sam so damn much. This wasn’t like the time before, angry and fast. But, christ, Sam had sucked him off so good. Now, Dean was able to curb his guilt slightly. He still knew it was wrong but they had boundaries this time, they were going to stop, and it’s not like they hadn’t already jerked each other off a thousand time before.

Sam’s warm breath puffed over his face, mingling the air between them. He shifted his body closer to Dean and Dean couldn’t help but to lean into him. Both of them moving their arms, twisting their wrists, eye squeezing tight like if they couldn’t see then they could pretend it wasn’t their brother getting them off. Licking his lips, Dean leaned forward slightly to find his forehead bumping against Sam’s. When his forehead brushed, and his nose bumped, Sam tensed next to him, leaning back slightly at the hips as he came over Dean’s hand. And Dean could do nothing but follow, coating Sam’s hand and the sheet with it.

They both panted softly, hands slowly leaving the other. Dean wiped his on the sheet as he rolled to his back. He listened to the sounds of his brother’s breaths evening out.

Sam huffed a quiet laugh, “Yeah.  _That_  was what I was missing.”

Dean’s stomach clenched at his brother’s confession. His heart began to race as he felt Sam adjust himself next to him on his bed. He tried to keep his mind from ruining the moment. Sam had asked for this and as long as it didn’t go any further they would be okay.

Feeling Sam’s shoulder brush his own, Dean’s voice scratched out with affection, “What you wanna cuddle now, bitch?”

He felt the bed move as Sam laughed next to him then bumped Dean’s shoulder with his, “You know it’s your favorite part, jerk.”

Dean let out a bitter laugh of his own, “No, I’m pretty sure coming was my favorite part.” Trying his best to keep up his Big Brother facade, he weakly attempted to mask just how close Sam had been to his true feelings. Sam snorted and pulled away from him. Dean couldn’t help but feel dismal from his brother’s withdrawal.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and the next day when he woke Sam was gone from his bed.

 

 

* * *

 

  

With only a few weeks left before he and Dean were to meet up with John, Sam found himself counting down the days. There was a buzzing electric undercurrent flowing beneath his skin keeping him from relaxing.

Even though Tyler had been understanding, Sam kept his distance from him at school. That kept him alone most of the time, which Sam was surprisingly grateful for. He was able to concentrate on finals. And though he’d already sent in his applications for colleges, Sam still felt the need to keep his grades up. Other classmates had been telling him it was pointless, colleges only look at SAT scores and GPAs, but Sam felt like it was the best way to keep sharp.

After the first night of their newly agreed upon arrangement, Sam was expecting to walk on eggshells around his brother. It was awkward at first but they quickly found a rhythm and Sam was surprised at how fast they were able to salvage their relationship.

It didn’t escape his attention that Dean never came to  _his_  room at night. Sam was the sole instigator of their tryst but his brother never turned him away. He tried to restrain himself but knowing his days with Dean were numbered, Sam couldn’t stand being alone in his room. Not when there was a better alternative.

It wasn’t the same as the time before their heart breaking epiphones. There was still an invisible wall between them, but both Sam and Dean pushed it aside. Neither one of them talked about what they did at night in the dark of Dean’s bed and Sam really did mean it when he’d said that they would stop. Eventually.

When winter break finally arrived Sam was both relieved to leave New London and troubled to once again find their dad. John had been checking in more frequently which he knew Dean was grateful for. Sam and Dean packed up their small amount of belongings and made the long drive to Greenville, Ohio. He never did say goodbye to Tyler and part of him felt bad for that.

John had found a place for them in a rent-by-the-month motel. They pulled into the parking spot where Sam recognized John’s truck next to them. Grabbing their duffels, they knocked on the Starlite Motel’s number 6 door.

John opened it, studied them over, and asked, “You boys make it here, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said.

Sam watched his brother’s eyes travel over their Dad’s body, assessing him for any unspoken injuries. It was always the same greeting, quick appraisal then down to business.

When Sam finally brought his eyes from his brother and father he lifted his eyebrows to find two queen beds, a large lumpy couch, and a round table near a small kitchenette that was complete with a small fridge and stove top.

One bed had the covers pulled back which Sam assumed was his Dad’s. Sam cleared his throat, “How long we staying here?”

“Til the jobs done,” John grunted.

Sam rolled his eyes, “Yeah, figured that. Where are we sleeping? Dean drove straight through. He needs to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Dean spoke quickly looking at John, “What are we hunting?”

John pointed to the round table with papers scattered around it. Sam noticed that there were pages of newspaper attached to the wall near it too. Dropping his duffel on the still made bed, Sam followed Dean to the table and scanned the pages.

“Phantom attacker?” Dean asked.

“The best I can figure. I haven’t been here long, just time enough to interview the few people still alive that have confronted it. Dates back to the late 1700s though.”

“You think this is related to the Treaty of Greenville?” Sam asked.

“Could be. Nothing conclusive yet, still gathering information.”

“Treaty of Greenville?” Dean asked.

John cleared his throat and explained, “The ending of the Northwest Indian War.”

Dean nodded his head, “Right. Okay, so lots of concentrated anger.”

Sam watched as Dean yawned. He turned to John, “So, how long are we staying? We need sleep.”

“I’m fine, Sam.”

Shaking his head, Sam replied, “You just drove eighteen hours, you’re gonna sleep, dude.”

John scratched his face, “We’re not gonna recon until tomorrow so catch a few hours. One of you can sleep in my bed, or you can share. Or there’s the couch.”

“How long are we staying here?” Sam asked again more forceful, annoyed at John dodging his question.

“Until it’s done, Sam,” he replied sternly.

Perturbed, Sam stomped over to the duffel on his bed and dropped it to the floor. Nervously, he turned, looking over his shoulder, to meet Dean’s eyes. He lifted his eyebrow, silently asking if he wanted the bed alone or if he would be okay sharing. Dean nodded it was okay to share and walked over to his own bag. Sam couldn’t help but smirk at him and lift an eyebrow more suggestively. He watched Dean’s eyes grow wide in fear and he shook his head violently in a firm ‘no’ before stealing a glance at John.

Sam walked around the bed and slapped a hand on his shoulder. He leaned in and said, “Just messin’ with you, dude. Relax.” He watched redness creep over Dean’s cheeks as he walked into the bathroom to get ready to catch sleep for the next few hours.

Nine months. Sam reminded himself, only nine months left of shitty motels, even shittier food, and the dangerous life of hunting.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first night in Greenville Dean was more than a little apprehensive about sharing a bed with Sam in the same room as John. His muscle memory alone was enough to freak him out. Since they had been sharing a bed more regularly Dean no longer had any sense of personal space when it came to his brother. He woke up many mornings with Sam wrapped up in his legs or his own arms leached tight against his brother’s waist. Now that he’d have to curb that instinct it made it very difficult for him to sleep comfortably.

Dean kept reminding himself that it was good that John was in the room. Their intentions had been to slowly stop their nighttime rendezvous but it only continued to occur more often. He wanted to say something to Sam about it. To tell him that it was time they cut back but he couldn’t do it. First of all, he didn’t want to talk about it, and secondly, deep down he didn’t want it to stop.

So, objectively, Dean recognized that it was a good thing that they’d need to take a break because of John being so close.

There wasn’t much time for themselves over the next few days, anyway. John keep them busy interviewing witnesses and researching previous attacks. The phantom was reported to have left people permanently psychologically altered after encounters. They were unaware if it was due to the traumatic experience of being introduced to the paranormal or if the phantom actually had an ability to induce a permanent inexplicable fear in its victims.

The plan was a rough one but they were used to winging it. They finally tracked the source to a pioneer’s bloody and traumatic death in the 1700s. Dean didn’t do much of the research and he wasn’t worrying himself too much with the details. Their crude plan was for John and Sam to track down the unmarked grave while Dean was to stand alone as bait.

That was how he found himself in a crossroad on the edge of town sitting the snow waiting for whatever-the-hell to show itself at midnight. He had spent the first thirty minutes pacing around and opted for the ‘easy target’ scenario hoping that the phantom would reveal itself. Sam told him their research had compared these things to mothmen and shadow people. Dean would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to witness this creature.

Pulling himself up from the cold ground, he wiped off the snow and began pacing again. He started humming the first Metallica song to pop into his head. He was close to singing out loud when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He froze in place and tried to get his eyes to focus. It was dark and difficult to see but Dean could tell something was definitely there.

His adrenalin was pumping as he began to walk closer. Suddenly the shadowed figure enlarged itself and Dean saw for the briefest of moments a tall, dark, humanoid shadow, blurred in the night air. Before he had time to react, the shadow rushed towards him causing him to freeze in his spot instantly. He was unsure if it was due to the creature or if the thought of moving was too distressing to budge.

In that moment all he could concentrate on was Sammy. Though he was no where near him, Dean  _knew_  his brother was in danger. A feeling in his gut made his blood run cold and he knew he  _needed_  to get to his brother. When he finally worked up the courage to will himself to  _try_ to move, he found he was still immobilized and the phantom was no where to be found. But it was dark. It was so clouded and dark, like a fog had moved over obscuring all light from the stars and the moon.

In his stationary position, visions of Sam rose to his mind. Flames licking his brother’s skin, burning, Dean could smell the flesh melt from his skin. He could  _feel_  the heat of the fire against his face. As Sam screamed, howling in agony, Dean fought his invisible bonds. He struggled against his restraints and when he was finally able to pull himself free, a blast of white flashed quickly, the heat from the flame extinguished, then the sky around him fell black. Dean yelled for Sam in confusion, trying to reach his brother in the dark abyss.

In the distance he heard faint groaning sobs. He quickly ran towards the sound and his eyes were suddenly able to focus. Light from the moon filtered back down and he could see a path towards the sound of sobbing. The closer Dean got the more familiar the sounds became.

“Sam!” He yelled into the dark. His heart raced dangerously, pounding under his chest as he ran.

Finally, he saw Sam. His brother was crumpled on the ground, curled on his side shaking. When Dean reached him he fell to the ground, ignoring the spikes of pain shooting through his knees on his landing. His hands trembled as he reached out to Sam. Dean pulled him upright to assess his injury and that’s when he saw the dark wet stains saturated through his shirt. Blood.

“Sam?” His voice broke.

“Sam winced in pain as tears stained down his cheeks. “Dean?” He was confused.

Dean panicked as Sam coughed and blood landed on his lips. “Sammy, hold on,” Dean turned around and yelled for help. For his dad. For anyone. It was bad. Sam was bleeding and he needed to do something to stop it.

Gently, he laid his brother back down carefully but it still caused Sam to cry out in pain. “Fuck, Dean,” Sam whispered.

“You’re okay, Sam,” Dean assured, mostly for his own benefit. He lifted Sam’s shirt and froze.

His brother’s stomach was blackened dark from pooling blood around a huge gashing incision. Dean’s brain stopped as he stared at the injury helplessly.

“Dean,” Sam breathed, broken and weak. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“No, Sam,” Dean leaned down and embraced him. “Fuck, Sam you’re fine. You’ll be fine,” he rambled.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I can’t-”

“Shut up, Sam!” Dean cried against his brother’s shoulder. “Shut up, shut up. You’re fine. You’ll be fine.” He kissed Sam’s cheek and again and again until he made his way to Sam’s lips where he tasted blood.

Sam stilled in his arms.

The world around him became dark as Dean broke down.

When he blinked, Dean couldn’t get his eyes to focus. Darkness still covered everything surrounding him. He searched the ground frantically trying to find Sam. He felt nothing. Slowly his eyes began to focus and he could see light in the sky from stars illuminating the ground.

Dean closed his eyes and felt the hairs rising on his arms under his coat. He needed to get the hell out of there. With Dean incapacitated, Sam was in danger. Dean’s heart raced harder and faster and he felt waves and waves of bitter cold wash over his body. He needed to open his eyes but he couldn’t. If he opened his eyes he knew Sam would be dead and it was his fault for not getting to him in time.

In the darkness of his mind he struggled to fight against the cold. Maybe if he could warm up, even if only a little, maybe it wouldn’t be too late. The only hope he had was bleak and he knew it, but if he was only able to take a step he might save Sammy.

A high pitched white noise buzzed in his ears. He couldn’t make out anything but the fuzzy electric sound. Blinking bravely, Dean was finally able to open his eyes. He was engulfed in a hazy dark cloud. The clouded darkness slowly dissipated, fading into the night. and the white noise quieted, weakly breaking down from around him.

Turning his head, Dean took a deep breath, feeling as though he was breathing for the first time. His heart was still racing and his instinct kicked back at him telling him his brother was hurt. Sam needed him and he wasn’t with him. He willed his feet to move and soon began running towards the direction of his brother.

“Sam!” He called desperately into the night. “Sammy?” He entered a small wooded area and continued to call. Squinting his eyes in the dark he saw a familiar figure “Sam?” He yelled. Dean watched as Sam waved his hand high over his head, smiling.

He was okay.

Dean took off at full speed to meet his brother. John was no where to be found but that wasn’t important. Sam was alive. His brother was  _alive._

“Dean, what-”

“Sammy!” Reaching him, Dean enveloped his brother in a strong embrace. His arms shook violently with adrenalin and fear still coursing through him.

He felt Sam’s arms return the hug reluctantly, “Dean, what’s the matter?”

Shaking under the strong hold of his brother, Dean pulled his head back and held onto the back of Sam’s head. Without thinking, Dean’s lips crushed into Sam’s as he kissed rough and hard against his brother’s mouth. He was warm, and he was strong, holding Dean tight, and most importantly Sam was  _alive._  Dean brought his hands to the side of Sam’s face, holding him where he needed in order to deepen the kiss, licking hard into Sam’s mouth.

He became vaguely aware that Sam was holding his head and pulling away from him, “Dean. Dean, what’s the matter? What happened? Are you okay?”

Trembling in his brother’s hands, he looked into Sam’s eyes, “I thought you were dead, Sam. I thought for sure-”

“Dean, shh. Hey, it’s okay,” Sam pulled him close and held onto him allowing Dean to slow his breathing.

“I can’t shake this, Sam,” Dean scratched out.

“Dean, it’s not real. You  _know_  that. Remember? Remember all the vics said they felt debilitating fear? It’s  _just_  the phantom, Dean. It’s not real.”

Dean shook his head, “It felt so damn real, Sam. I can’t get this feeling to stop.”

Sam lifted Dean’s chin, and hell, when did Sam get taller than him? He tilted Dean’s head back and brought his mouth down slowly to cover Dean’s. Closing his eyes, he allowed Sam to kiss him gently. His chest tightened, heart swelled warm beneath his breast. In that moment, with his brother still very much alive, Dean didn’t give a damn about anything but Sam. Sam licked against Dean’s bottom lip making his stomach jump and stir. Dean let him in completely, tongues touching soft and warm and perfect. The way Sam ran his teeth over Dean’s bottom lip, nipping and sucking on it lightly, made him dizzy.

Starting to warm again, Dean realized his heart was racing for another reason. Sam was  _safe_  and he was there in front of him. He could smell him and feel him against his skin. Holding Dean in a strong embrace. To hell with whatever reasons he knew they shouldn’t be doing this. They weren’t worth a damn right then and Sam felt so good against him. Dean couldn’t help but bring his fingers up and run them through Sam’s hair, holding him close, once again deepening their kiss, whimpering helplessly around his brother’s tongue. He never wanted to stop.

But Sam pulled away trembling against him.

Panting, with his eyes closed, Dean leaned his forehead against Sam’s as they shared a long, impassioned breath. He never wanted his brother to leave his sight.

“Boys!”

Heart fucking stopping in panic, Dean looked around the dark to search for the figure accompanying the bellowing call of their father’s voice.

“He didn’t see us,” Sam whispered in his ear, “Too far.” With one quick hug, Sam held onto him tight and then pulled away.

Dean looked up at his brother wide-eyed in near terror at how easily he’d fallen into him. Yearning for the missing the heat. Lingering traces of fear still coursing through him.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

Shaking his head ‘no’, Dean said with a weak voice, “When the hell did you get taller than me?”

“ _That_  means you’re fine,” Sam laughed making Dean’s heart warm to see his dimples in the dark. Dean wiped at his mouth, nervously trying to remove the invisible trace of what they almost got caught doing.

“Sam? Dean?” John’s voice was closer.

Turning away sheepishly, Dean looked around the dark to see a distant flashlight blinking towards their direction.

“We’re over here!” Sam called to John.

They began walking closer to him, Sam intentionally brushed his shoulder against Dean’s as a reminder that he was still with him. Crunching their shoes against the snow as they approached, Dean coughed hoping to muster up a more confident tone, “I, uh, take it you found the grave?”

“Yeah, did you boys see anything? Anything we can record for future reference?”

Blushing violently in the dark, Dean looked away from John eyes settling to Sam. Sam quickly spoke, “Yeah, Dad. Dean saw the phantom.”

“What did it look like?”

Blinking at his dad, “Um, I don’t know. It was more of just a feeling. It was dark, I guess? Just a shadowy figure. Human-like but wrong, you know? Well, no shit it’s wrong. Floating lone shadows ain’t known for being normal, right?” Dean stammered on.

“Anything else?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “It just made everything… dark. Like, clouded, but also how it made me feel. I was so sure-” He stopped as his voice choked.

John, sensing the difficulty for Dean to share, quickly said, “Son, this is important. The more we can learn from this the better. We’ll know what to expect and we can help other hunters with this.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean nodded then continued, “Uh- It was just- I  _knew_  Sam was dead. Or dying. It made me feel like he needed me but I couldn’t move. Stuck to the spot. I could feel fire and smell burning flesh. Next thing I know the fire was gone and Sam was dying on the ground. Then that was gone and all I knew was Sam needed me and I wasn’t there. And, you know, I  _knew_  what we were hunting ahead of time. I knew what to expect but I froze. I just… needed to get to Sam. It was all I could think of.” Dean was glad it was too dark for either of them to see the pink rising in his cheeks.

John nodded and turned to Sam,  _“Did_  you need him?”

“Nope. I was poking around in the woods with sticks hoping to uncover a headstone. Didn’t see a thing.”

John nodded, “Okay, well, I’ll write that down when we get back. Let’s get outta here.” John took to the lead as Sam and Dean followed.

Dean still felt off his game. The feeling of sheer terror was difficult to shake off, even with Sam right next to him. Sam bumped him slightly to get his attention. Dean shook his head, looking away as embarrassment started to kick in, but then Sam wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulders. They walked back to the car in silence but Dean was already beginning to feel better.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was with increasing difficulty that Sam was able to keep his hands off of Dean. Their dad was around constantly, which, way to be an active parent  _now,_  John. Sam couldn’t find time to get them alone but it wasn’t for lack of trying. It annoyed him to no end. It wasn’t like he and Dean didn’t have years of experience sneaking away to jerk off but now with the underlying emotional intent behind their rendezvous there was an added pressure making it more difficult.

Sam honestly had thought he had a handle on everything. When they came up with the plan to slowly cut back, he had genuinely thought it would help. But each time they hooked up Sam was left feeling hollow and disappointed because it was never enough. It’s not like they were clinical, but Sam wanted to be allowed to kiss him and push Dean into the mattress. He wanted to leave marks on his brother’s body so everyone would know he was there. Those were the thoughts that he was haunted with at night.

His mind was at war with itself, and the thinly veiled walls of denial he had painstakingly constructed were starting to peel. With John constantly getting in the way of any  _quality_ time with his brother, Sam was let to daydream more vividly about when it would happen again. He wanted Dean so damn bad. He also knew there was no way in hell he was going to let what he really wanted to happen actually happen.

Logically, he knew that their secluded and limited emotionally supportive upbringing was bound to get wires crossed. Being the nerd that he was, months back he started to do research on it and found that he and Dean were near textbook, an ideal for the perfect storm. In their childhood they had both been socially, psychologically, and physically isolated from others and both had a mutual dependency of each other to meet their emotional needs. Then there was the role reversal of his brother having to be the caregiver. He looked after Sam. John put that responsibility on him. Dean was his only source of affection growing up.

Then there was also the morality. Morally, Sam was nearly over the societal taboo of what they were doing. As hunters they broke the laws of morals repeatedly. It was a daily occurrance. For how fucked up it was, Sam was beginning not to care. He wanted Dean and Dean wanted him and there was a considerably large part of him that knew the significance of what they were doing was wrong but it was exactly what he wanted.

There was one thing that stopped Sam from truly breaking the rules. The one thing that caused him to fear pushing things too far with Dean was his emotional attachment. Sam was leaving. He just was. It was a  _fact_. The fucked up childhood of theirs led both of them down that fucked up road and Sam was determined to set a new path. He deserved an opportunity to be normal and safe. He also didn’t want to ruin his brother’s life even further. He knew that Dean would already be heartbroken by his departure and Sam didn’t want to increase his pain anymore.

Sam figured if they could wean themselves down from their current amorous relationship to a more manageable and healthy one, then it wouldn’t be nearly as difficult for either of them when he was gone.

But it was damn hard to resist after the phantom attack. Dean was leaning into him, panting, and kissing him like his life depended on it. He had seen his brother’s concern for him during hunts before but this paled greatly to past experiences.

Dean had been shaking against him and so desperate in the way he kissed him. The way he clung to him. Sam could do nothing but give in. His heart raced and he heard a chorus of  _yes, perfect, never stop_  in his mind as their tongues fought fervently.

And it was in that moment he  _knew_  he was screwed.

They packed up and left the town soon after returning to the motel.

On to the next hunt. Normally, Sam would be bitching up a storm but he found patience knowing that this would be the last Christmas he’d spend in a shitty motel.

While on the road, Sam looked over at Dean to study him cautiously. He had been tense since the phantom which Sam completely understood. His heart ached thinking back to how frantic Dean had been. Sam had the strongest urge to move closer to his brother. He thought about it momentarily before he finally decided to shift over.

Dean lifted an eyebrow at him as Sam leaned against his shoulder. Stretching his legs Sam explained surreptitiously, “More room.”

Dean shook his head but Sam recognized the look of relief in his eyes from the contact. “When the  _hell_  did you get taller than me, Sam?”

Smiling to himself, he turned to shine his dimples at Dean, “Guess that makes  _you_  the little brother now.”

Scoffing Dean said, “In your dreams, Sammy.”

“Well, being as _I_  am the big brother now, I think it’s only fair to inform you that it’s my turn to be the bossy jerk. And this bossy jerk would like to remind you not to call me ‘Sammy.’”

Dean laughed, “You’re saying that makes me the whiny bitch?”

“Aww, Dean, deep down you know you’ve  _always_  been the whiny bitch,” Sam teased, nudging against his shoulder. “It’s nothin’ new.”

Despite himself, Dean smiled and affectionately replied, “Asshole.”

They sat in companionable silence for a short time, each enjoying the others company. Something they hadn’t done much of in the last seven months. Sam asked, “You know where we’ll be for Christmas? He tell you?”

“Not sure,” Dean shrugged.

Pausing a moment, Sam added, “It would be nice if we could do something this year.”

Dean eyed him hesitantly, “You know how likely that is, Sam, so don’t count on it.”

“I know,” Sam said.

To his disappointment Christmas passed them quickly as they were working on a haunting down in Nebraska. Sam hated being in the Midwest for the winter. If he could persuade John to head south he would, but Sam knew that they went wherever the job would take them. For now he was just grateful they weren’t in Grand Forks, North Dakota.

Somehow they had all been together for New Years Eve in Belvue, Iowa. With John passed out on the motel bed, Sam and Dean watched the ball drop on their own. He’d be lying if he said the thought of kissing Dean hadn’t crossed his mind. They hadn’t kissed since the night of the phantom and Sam knew Dean would rib the ever living shit out of him if he suggested they start up again as the ball dropped. Not to mention it would be breaking the rules.

But that’s not to say he didn’t want to.

The air between them was uneasily charged minutes before the countdown. Dean was sitting with his back against the headboard and Sam lay with pillows propping his head so he could see the television. He stared at the screen, refusing to move despite every fiber of him screaming to turn around and catch his brother’s eye. Sam had to congratulate himself at his self-discipline as he made it through the countdown without a single glance back.

But the hyperaware atmosphere between them was unmistakable. Sam knew Dean was thinking about it. He held out for another five minutes before finally caving, looking up at his brother to meet his eyes.

“Happy New Year, Dean,” Sam licked his lips unconsciously.

“You too, Sammy,” Dean returned through heavy lidded eyes.

Sam couldn’t will himself to look away. He watched as Dean lifted his eyebrows nervously. Before losing his nerve, Sam bit his lip and nodded suggestively at the door leading to the parking lot.

Dean’s eyes darted quickly to the other bed with John sleeping heavily on top.

“Come on,” Sam pleaded quietly.

Shaking his head, Dean whispered, “Where?”

Sam mouthed  _Impala_  at him.

Dean looked nervously away from Sam and toward the TV then back again to their dad. Sam nudged him with his hand forcing Dean to meet his eyes. Dean nodded reluctantly and Sam’s stomach jumped.

Trying not to appear too eager, though he was, Sam moved from the bed and silently slipped his shoes on. He grabbed his coat and waiting for Dean. They walked out the door into the cold night.

Sam’s skin vibrated as he walked to the front passenger side door of the Impala.

“Sam,” Dean called to him over the top of the car before he got in. Sam gave him a confused look before he watched Dean walk to the driver’s side of the back seat and get in.

Eyes darting wildly, Sam’s heart thumped faster under his chest. He willed his feet to walk to the rear door and climbed in.

They sat awkwardly, each facing forward. Since their new arrangement this was the first time they had premeditated the act so formally. It was a strict agreement where the only occurrences were late at night, in the dark, when Sam instigated by coming into Dean’s room. Into his bed. In complete dark where neither one could see what they were doing. They had avoided it since being back around John, not that they couldn’t find a way to slip past him, but Dean never instigated and Sam felt guilty. It simply wasn’t happening.

Sam’s eyes darted nervously to Dean’s who looked as scared as he was. Suddenly Sam was wondering why the hell they didn’t have anything to drink for New Years because it was extremely difficult to do sober. But the thought of going back inside was not an option.

Collecting his courage, Sam shifted towards Dean, extending his hand towards the zipper of his brother’s jeans. He placed his hand gently between Dean’s legs, afraid he might change his mind if he made too sudden of movement. Sam looked to his brother for guidance or confirmation. Anything that assured him to continue.

The air was cold and he could see Dean’s breath as he exhaled nervously. Sam’s heart raced as he watched the puffs evaporate quickly. His eyes shifted and he could only focus on his brother’s lips. The bottom was so full and plump and when he watched Dean pull it in to lick Sam simply didn’t care anymore. Dean kissed him during the hunt and it was everything he’d been missing.

Knowing he was breaking a rule, Sam leaned in bridging the space. He kissed him so tenderly and was surprised to feel Dean kissing back. Sam lifted the hand he had over Dean’s zipper to to the side of his brother’s face instead. With fingers strumming against the nape of his neck, Sam raked his nails through his hair.

Dean moaned and turned his body into Sam’s, deepening their kiss. Sam lifted his left knee, lodging it against his brother’s hip. Whimpering into his mouth, Sam guided Dean to lean back against the door. Sam brought his hand to shrug Dean out of his jacket then quickly removed his own. Dean was sitting flush against the door, right leg now lifted on the seat, left leg balancing on the floor. And Sam sat back on his knees, straddling his brother’s leg.

Dean looked terrified and Sam couldn’t help but find it hot as hell. His brother, so commanding and in charge, was lost and it was because of what Sam was doing to him.

“Sam,” Dean’s voice trembled, pleading.

Shivering from the cool air, Sam leaned back down into his brother. With one hand holding himself up on the door, Sam continued their kiss. Since the hunt, he couldn’t keep his brother from his mind. Dean had kissed him so desperately and so suddenly Sam never had a chance to savor it. He knew he was pushing Dean’s boundaries but with his heart racing and his brother licking softly into his mouth he felt happy for the first time in weeks.   

He was still nervous about ruining everything they’d work towards. Pulling back slightly, Sam shivered,  whispering against Dean’s lips, “Wanna stop?”

He felt Dean’s hands, cold and stinging, run over his arms stabilizing him. They found their way to the back of Sam’s head and Dean pulled him closer. Lips ghosting over Sam’s, Dean breathed, “We should.”

Sam could feel Dean shuddering underneath him. Reaching down, Sam kissed him softly before Dean pulled him more firmly against his body. His brother’s hands warmed quickly as they travel along the planes of Sam’s body. Kissing Dean, Sam’s heart raced as he fell into him. He felt intoxicated. Dean made his heart pound and his mind cloud as he nipped Sam’s bottom lip and sucked against it.

Unable to restrain himself, Sam thrust his hip down into his brother’s eliciting a lewd moan from his brother. Dean arched his back, pushing against Sam for the pressure as his lips began to bruise. Sam felt as Dean’s hand reached between them. He rubbed breathlessly against Sam’s hard dick causing him to moan into his brother’s mouth. Sam pulled back from the kiss and brought his own hand down impatiently trying to unzip his pants.

As Sam pulled away, slightly, only enough to lower his jeans, Dean slid down the seat and doing the same. Each only enough to expose themselves to the bitter winter cold. Dean’s eyes were squeezed shut as Sam leaned back down into his brother.

He could feel warmth radiate from Dean causing him to shiver as their cocks brushed, electric heat flooding through his veins. Using his palm to guide himself, Sam wrapped his fingers firmly around his dick and Dean’s.

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean panted breathlessly below him, writhing and thrusting into his hand.

Sam couldn’t help plunging down against his brother, cocks both hard, and hot, and begging for attention. The silky heat causing them weep at the tip. Sam had done this with Tyler but christ, nothing he had done with that kid had felt a fraction of anything like with his brother. He felt Dean thrust forward, harder against him, and Sam shuddered against him, with a silent crying gasp into his mouth.

Running his palm around them both, the smooth carnal velvet of his brother’s cock against his own, Sam whimpered. He smoothed down the leaking wetness and trembled as he could no longer take it. Holding them together tight he began to pump his hand as Dean arched his back and fucked into his fist.  

Sam hurried his pace, thrusting down reflexively, he tried to hold them together. Breaking their kiss, panting breathlessly above his brother, Sam could barely make out his brother’s whimpering cries, “Yeah, Sam, fuck.” Followed by a whispering realization, a mantra, stuttering, “Sshouldn’t-  _We_  shouldn’t, Sam. Ah- yeah,  _fuck._ ”

He was too damn selfish to stop. Sam ignored Dean’s protests as he felt the burn deep and low in his stomach. Heat ran through him, a magnetic pulse curling his toes, and with his arms threatening to buckle, he shuddered, coming over his hand and onto Dean. A lewd ownership, Sam staking his claim on his brother.

Breathing hard, without much thought he quickly collected his come and brought his slick hand to wrap tight around Dean.

“Ah,  _Sammy,_ ” Dean moaned again. Sam watched as his eyes squeezed tight. His mouth open, breathing hard, Dean came in Sam’s hand.

Sam pulled him through it gently. He wiped his hand off on his own shirt and with the haze of arousal gone he looked timidly down at his brother.

Dean still had his eyes shut tight, concentrating on slowing his breathing, shaking softly.

Sam leaned back, quickly tucking himself in. His heart was still pounding violently in his chest. Loud enough that he swore Dean could hear it. Sam looked up to see the windows of the Impala fogged over and he knew the car reeked of sex.

Sam internally chastised himself. They fucking knew better. If John had stepped outside, even for a second, he would have found them like this. They hadn’t even tried to find a better, more secluded place.

As Dean pulled his leg out from under him, Sam adjusted himself to sit facing forward. He listened as Dean’s breathing finally returned to normal and he straightened himself out. Daring once again to look, Sam saw his brother reaching for his jacket.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Dean’s voice was quiet and unreadable.

“Okay,” Sam scratched as his brother opened the door. It slammed shut behind him, shaking the car and Sam with it. Sam took a moment to regain composure.

“Fuck,” he swore to himself. His heart dropped suddenly feeling sick.

He hadn’t intended all of that to happen. When he nodded to Dean he had honestly thought they’d just pull each other off quick like they’d been doing. How did they get from awkwardly sitting next to each other to all of  _that?_

As Sam slammed the car door shut, he trudged his heavy feet to their room shaking his head and hoping that he hadn’t fucked things up  _even worse._

 

 

* * *

 

 

It took all of his restraint not to punch a hole in the thin motel wall as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. They had rules for a goddamn reason and Dean was the one  _again_  to break them. When he’d been affected by the phantom he hadn’t given a second thought to kissing his brother. It was relief and fear that caused him to do it and it came from a place purely born out of concern. But he had opened a can with that simple act and it had encouraged Sam to push their limitations.

When he stepped into the shower he made the water as hot as he could, burning any evidence from his skin. After some indeterminate amount of time, once he realized no amount of hot water would burn away what was wrong with him, Dean stepped out. He changed into boxers and a shirt and nervously made his way to the bed he’d be sharing with his brother.

Sam was already on his side, turned away from Dean which Dean was thankful for. If he had any kind of luck at all he would be asleep. Dean peeled back the covers and sheets and carefully climbed into the bed, paying special attention not to disturb his brother. Dean laughed bitterly in his mind at the thought. He had already thoroughly disturbed his brother enough for one lifetime.

He listened carefully to the sounds of the boy next to him. He didn’t hear the familiar deep even measured breathing so he knew unfortunately Sam was still awake.

After a few minutes he felt the bed move as Sam turned to his side. His voice, barely audible, whispered gently, “We broke the rules.”

Rolling his eyes to himself, Dean internally snorted at his brother’s observation.

Waiting a short pause, Sam continued, “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Hesitating slightly, Dean sighed, “Go to sleep, Sam.”

And for once his brother listened.

Dean figured he only got a couple of hours of sleep by the time his eyes were blinking open. He heard John shuffling papers at the small table across the room. Memories of the car flooded his mind as he crawled out of the bed.

For once in his life he was grateful for his dad being an early riser. John quickly filled him in on the latest hunt. The biggest lead was that it was potentially a cursed object and someone needed to start searching immediately. Dean offered without even thinking.

Well, that wasn’t true. His first and only thought was relief from being away from Sam.

He and John made the plan that Dean would interview vics, get as much information as he could, and he would pick up John a few days later, leaving the truck for Sam. And though Sam was more than capable of enrolling in school himself, John still needed to find a longer term living situation for his new semester.

Dean knew he was running but he believed it to be his best option. His plan with his brother was supposed to make things easier for them but, big surprise, it hadn’t helped. Maybe if the phantom hadn’t infected Dean it would have. But that wasn’t what happened so in contrast to how he felt with the situation with his brother, Dean felt no shame in running. Less shame than getting off with his brother. Much less shame in running. It wasn’t even the actual sexual act that had him upset, but hell, kissing Sam was unlike anything he’d experienced before and it scared the shit out of him. Not only did it feel incredible but it was Sam _. Sam_ , who he had safeguarded his whole life.  _His_  Sam. And, christ, that meant more to him than he could comprehend.

It’s not like Dean was running far. John gave him a burner cell phone that he’d picked up a few towns back. One for each of them. They’d be able to keep in contact. Dean wasn’t sure if that was a benefit. Being cut off from each other might be what they needed.

When Dean left Belvue he didn’t wake up Sam, which he knew was a dick move, but he couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye. Sam would beg him to stay, or beg to go with until John figured out his living situation, and Dean couldn’t have that.

So he skipped town a few hours south.

He did some retcon. He interviewed some vics. A few days passed and he was able to pick up his Dad from Belvue with the Impala.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked nervously as John sat in the passengers seat.

John smiled running his hand over the dash fondly, “School. He enrolled yesterday.”

“Oh, right,” Dean shook his head. Clearing his throat he asked, “You wanna drive her?”

John smiled at him, the most sincere smile Dean had seen in a long damn time. “No, that’s alright, son. She’s your baby now, just nice to say hello every once and a while.”

And in that moment, seeing his Dad so proud of the car and in such good spirits, his stomach sank. It would destroy him if he knew what Dean had done to Sam.

Feeling nauseated, Dean turned away and began to drive.


	7. Chapter 7

The amount of rage and disappointment Sam felt for his brother was overwhelming. He had asked Dean, pleaded and begged on many different occasions,  _not_  to go. Sam should have known better than to expect Dean to be brave enough to stay.

John found an extended stay motel close to the high school. Close enough that Sam could walk if it was warm enough. He was planning on driving the truck to school, however. He gave Sam an emergency supply of cash but told him to use the credit cards whenever possible and he also received a cell phone.

Sam found himself glaring at the phone on more than one occasion. He had a fierce desire to tell his brother exactly what the hell he thought of his scared-ass for running away. Logically, he knew he should be relieved that the restraint between them was being forced due to distance because they sure as hell couldn’t keep their boundaries on their own.

The selfish part of Sam was so furious with Dean for being gone. He knew his time with his brother was limited. Sam was nearly counting down the days without even having an official acceptance letter. Even though he wanted to, he wasn’t going to do anything that would screw it up and that included telling Dean. If Dean knew that their time of living together was coming to an end he wouldn’t be out hunting with their dad, Sam was certain of it.

His mind was at constant war with itself. He wanted to call his brother. He wanted to see if he was okay. He wanted to tell him to fuck off. He wanted to tell him to come back. He wanted to yell at him that Dean was wasting their last days. Sam’s only solution was to stare at his phone and hope that the decision would be made for him. He knew John wasn’t going to call to check in and he wondered how long it would take before Dean did.

Five days was the answer. Longer than Sam had expected. He was exceedingly lonely staying in a one room motel by himself. With classes just starting he didn’t have much to catch up on. He filled out as many scholarship applications as he could find and watched marathons of  _Mad TV_  on Comedy Central. He even considered getting a part time job just for something to do but decided to pass on gainful employment.

Late Friday night his cell phone lit up blue and vibrated raucously against the hard surface of his desk.

It was Dean.

He had texted him.

_DW 11:37 PM: were fine sam_

Three words were all Dean could spare. Sam scoffed and couldn’t hold himself back. His thumbs pounded hard against the buttons as he replied.

_SW 11:41 PM: Says anyone who gets ahold of your phone. If I text Christo will you reply back? Let me know if you flinched, asshole_

Sam shook his head and walked over to the bed. He allowed himself to fall on it and tried to make get comfortable propping himself up with pillows as he watched TV. He couldn’t pay attention to it at all. Sam knew he was being passive aggressive but Dean was being an ass.

After about twenty minutes his phone buzzed again.

_DW 12:01 AM: didnt flinch_

Despite his anger, Sam couldn’t help but crack a smile, that is, until he realized it. He quickly scowled at his phone. Absently flipping it over in his hand, he worked over in his mind what would irritate his brother more, another angry text or no reply at all.

As John Winchester pointed out several times, Sam could be a stubborn ass. He chose to ignore the message and see how long it would take for Dean to come around. As difficult as it was Sam managed to wait a few hours before he notice he finally received another vibrating blue lit message.

_DW 2:13 AM: u ok sammy_

Sam ran his thumb over the screen, clearing off finger prints.

_SW 2:17 AM: Not Sammy_

He hit send. Nearly ten minutes later Dean replied.

_DW 2:25 AM: u ok little bitch_

Scowling again at his phone, Sam turned it off without even considering responding. At least he knew that it was really Dean on the other end. No one else could be such an asshole to him when  _he_  was the one in the wrong.

The later it became the more his anger and irritation subsided. Sam was glad when he was finally able to fall asleep and was thankful for dreamless rest.

He woke late in the morning to birds loud outside the only window. Yawning he used the bathroom and flipped on the TV for Saturday morning cartoons. As he settled back on the bed he saw his phone on the night stand. His heart skipped a beat as he turned it back on and saw unread messages.

_DW 2:34 AM: jus teasin_

_DW 2:39 AM: com on sam_

_DW 2:42 AM: if u didnt always act lik a bitch mayb ud get a new name_

_DW 2:49 AM:  samy com on_

_DW 2:58 AM: i mis u hope ur ok_

_DW 3:06 AM: dad sleps lik a log i knockd ovr lamp an he dint budg_

_DW 3:12 AM: m only a ltl drunk_

_DW 3:18 AM: mab a lot drunk_

_DW 3:32 AM: nite sam_

_DW 9:04 AM: hung over like a bitch. hope your ok sam_

Sam read through his messages. His anger had subsided with his sleep but just because he was no longer mad at Dean it didn’t mean he was ecstatic to talk to his brother either. He pulled the antenna out on his phone with his teeth then pushed it back in a few times before deciding to reply.

_SW 11:34 AM: I’m fine, Dean._

Turning his phone upside down, Sam flipped the TV on which would be his only companion all weekend.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean was actually getting restless working the hunt with John. They spent what seemed like a long and boring  _forever_  looking for cursed objects only to reassess and determine that it was a straight up curse alone. Dean hated goddamn witches. And after a couple weeks of being away, he was starting to miss his brother.

After a few days of angry texts, Sam appeared to have calmed down from Dean ditching him. He was able to call Sam with his brother actually answering instead of getting voicemail. Sam still pretty much only grumbled monosyllabic responses, however.

While on the hunt, Dean couldn’t help but  think of him when the slighted interesting thing happened. Booze prices being so much lower in the local dives, research being a pain in Dean’s ass, he even saw someone with a Flock of Seagulls haircut. Normally he’d nudge Sam so they could both laugh but now he was alone.

It wasn’t like this was the first time he and John went hunting without Sam but Dean was surprised to find that he was compelled to text his brother through all of it. Using his determination, he filtered it to only the good stuff. Sam would even usually respond. Dean did notice, however, that Sam  _only_  responded. He never sent a message first. Dean tried not to let it gnaw at him but he couldn’t help but feel hurt by his lack of consideration for them. Dean knew Sam never appeared interested when John was hunting by himself but Dean expected different treatment and it was hard not to find disconcerting.

_DW 11:27 AM: we could prob use ur help. goin in circles here_

_SW 12:37 PM: I’M IN SCHOOL DEAN_

_DW 12:43 PM: no, not sayin 2 come. ur just better at research_

_SW 4:02 PM: More like you’re too lazy for research_

He’d never admit it but the casual banter warmed his heart. It also made him miss his brother even more. Finally, the same day Dean had just complained of needing Sam’s superior researching skills, they had the break in the case that they needed. John was able to hunt down the witch responsible and together they were able to stop her.

_DW 1:08 AM: WE SMOKD THE BITCH BOUT TIME_

_SW 1:09 AM: u guys ok?_

_DW 1:30 AM: were fine_

Dean was riding the high of the hunt for some time before he realized that with the hunt over he’d need to return back to his brother. And he wanted to, he did, but the thought also made his stomach jump with nerves.

John gave him the extra key to Sam’s room and the next day Dean headed back to his brother.

The motel John set him up at was definitely intended for the creepers. Being so close to the school Dean had to wonder what kind of clientele was staying there. When he stuck the key in and unlocked the door he was greeted by the usual studio set up. One big open room with what was loosely described as a “kitchen” on the far wall and a desk that served as a table, Dean imagined. There was large queen bed in front of a TV with a couch next to the TV making it impossible to watch from that angle. It wasn’t the best set up they’d lived in but it also wasn’t the worst.

He noticed instantly that Sam wasn’t there. He sighed in relief, nervous about seeing his brother again.

Dean cracked open the fridge to find leftover pizza. He pulled out the box then jumped back on the bed hitting the power button of the remote as he took a bite. He couldn’t help but glance at his phone from time to time and was oddly dissatisfied at not finding a new message.

Around 5:00 PM that night the door finally creaked open and Sam stood tense in the doorway.

“Heyya, Sammy,” Dean greeted awkwardly.

“What are  _you_  doing here?” He shut the door behind him.

Dean noticed he didn’t sound surprised but instead annoyed, “Nice to see you too.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dean.” He walked over to the desk and dropped his backpack on the floor next to it. “Don’t you have another hunt to get to?” He pulled out the chair and sat down.

“No,” Dean replied hesitantly.

“ _Well,_ ” Sam turned his back to him and asked, “When are you leaving again?”

Dean moved to sit at the end of the bed near Sam. “I thought I’d stick around for awhile. Make sure you settled in okay.”

Sam scoffed pulling out a notebook from his bag. “Right. Big concern of yours, huh?” He asked sarcastically.

Suddenly angry, Dean demanded, “Drop the attitude, Sam, you’re too old for this shit. You got something to say? Say it.”

Keeping his back to Dean, Sam began scratching his pen against the paper. “Nope, I’m good,” he replied, clearly annoyed.

Frustrated, Dean stood and walked towards the door to leave. As he held his hand out to open it he stopped and turned back to see Sam watching from the side of his eyes. Dean dropped his hand and instead moved to cross his arms, “I’m just gonna pick up some food. You want somethin’?”

“Nope,” Sam shook his head.

Dean turned back to the door. He waited a moment before saying, “It’s fine if you’re mad at me, I get it, okay? And I know it’s not damn near as much as I deserve, but if you  _really_  don’t want me here, tell me to go, Sam. I’ll go.” He opened the door, “Just think about it.” He closed the door softly behind him.

Part of him wished Sam would tell him to get the hell out and stay out. When he was with John, Dean had a much stronger perspective on everything that was wrong with their fucked up relationship. It hurt Dean to be away from his brother but he knew at least that way he couldn’t hurt him anymore.

When he returned from a nearby diner nearly 45 minutes later he didn’t know how Sam was going to act. Dean opened the door to see his brother sitting on the bed with books strung out around him.

“Got you a BLT,” Dean walked over to the desk and sat the bag down. Digging through it, he grabbed one of the styrofoam containers and turned around. Approaching his brother slowly, he extended his offering which he hoped was sufficient appeasement.

“I said I didn’t want anything,” Sam stated and Dean noted it was without the attitude he had had earlier.

“Yeah, well, figured you might want something. I ate the rest of your pizza.”

“Oh,” Sam looked towards the fridge. “Thanks,” he say taking it from Dean.

Dean eyed the spot next to his brother, then turned back to the chair by the desk. He walked over and got his own food then looked up, wondering again which was the safer move.

Sam watched him curiously before saying, “You can sit over here.” He waited before adding, “If you want.”

Dean walked over, feigning confidence, he sat next to him. The air was charged as they watched TV while they ate. Eventually Dean was able to relax back against the headboard. After eating, Sam appeared to be in a better mood too.

“So, how’s the new school?” Dean asked carefully.

“Today I learned that if I had a dollar for every time you asked me that, we wouldn’t need to run credit card scams.”

Dean rolled his eyes at him but couldn’t resist smiling, “Smartass.”

Sam continued, shrugging, “It’s a new school, same as all the others. You got your cheerleaders, your jocks, your preppies, and your nerds.”

“Depressed about always being in that last one, huh?” Dean bumped his shoulder.

“No,  _I’m_  the creepy loner that everyone wants to know about but no one is brave enough to talk to.”

“Yeah, but you’re also a big nerd,” Dean teased.

“They don’t have to know that,” Sam conceded smiling.

Dean nodded, “So, any new…  _friends._ ”

Sam scoffed at him, “Real subtle, Dean.”

Dean scowled.

“Talk to a couple kids in class, nothing major. I haven’t fallen in with the  _‘bad crowd’_ this time.”

“When have you  _ever_  been in the bad crowd?” Dean asked amused.

Sam eyed him carefully before biting his lip. He replied, “You weren’t too happy about Stacy, Ryan, and  _Tyler._ ”

They had never really discussed Sam’s not-boyfriend. Not calmly. Dean glared at him, “That’s because, Sammy, you should be  _at least_  18 before your first orgy.”

Sam quipped, “That’s not what my brother said celebrating my seventeenth birthday.” He lifted his eyebrows pointedly at Dean.

“Yeah, well, your brother’s an idiot,” grimly, Dean replied.

“No arguments here,” Sam smiled at him.

Dean punched him lightly in the arm causing Sam to fall over on the bed laughing. Smiling, Dean continued to punch trying to kneel over him. Sam retaliated by kicking him in the hip but Dean quickly grabbed his brother’s legs and sat on them, pinning him to the bed. When Sam began to sit up, punching playfully back at him, Dean stopped him.

“Ah, ah- No, you don’t!” Dean grabbed Sam’s wrists and, now straddling his hips, he restrained him tight against the bed.

Sam looked up smiling at him, eyes peaking out behind his hair and breathing hard, chest rising and falling underneath him. He looked so damn beautiful when he was happy like that.

Shifting beneath, Sam inhaled and spoke carefully as pink crept up his cheeks, “Uh, Dean, I think we’re gonna need a safeword here pretty quick.”

Dean blushed but didn’t budge. He could feel Sam grow hard underneath his ass and he stilled, unwilling to move. He kept his eye contact with Sam but grew serious. Sternly Dean said, “You know we can’t anymore, right?”

“I was joking, Dean!” Sam rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“No shit _,_ ” Dean replied. He shifted over his brother, adjusting, and willing himself not to rub against the hardness underneath him. Continuing to straddle Sam, he explained, “We tried it your way. It didn’t work.”

Sam closed his eyes, then blinked them open, clenching his jaw, “I know, Dean.” His beautiful smile long gone.

Dean closed his eyes and for a moment longer he focused everything on the feeling of his brother, hard against his ass, and Dean swelling equally as hard in his jeans. Only a few pieces of cloth to separate them. He didn’t want to move, not away from his brother.

He rolled his hips slightly causing Sam to moan and Dean couldn’t help but shudder feeling his brother so close and so damn warm.

“If we have to stop then-” Sam said breathlessly, hips pushing back carefully against Dean, “Then you need to stop now, Dean.”

Dean nodded, breathing hard. His heart was pounding and all he could think about was sitting harder on Sam’s dick and ripping his clothes off. He closed his eyes and after a moment climbed off his brother slowly, letting him free. Dean rolled next to him on the bed where they listened to the sounds of their breathing even out.

Dean was certain they were both feeling the annoying dissatisfaction weighing between them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Though it took effort for them both, Sam and Dean were able to abide by new boundaries. Most nights Dean slept on the couch, a preventative measure they both agreed to, though Sam was reluctant. Sam hadn’t wanted any kind of distance between them at all. He  _wanted_  to roll over at night and see his brother sleeping quietly next to him. He wanted to kiss him. And every time Dean made some lame-ass joke making himself laugh, Sam wanted to push the idiot back against the wall and map his skin with his lips.

But, Sam agreed to stop. What he  _wanted_  and what he knew was best were two different things. Dean was right. Dean had been right all along. He knew that they needed to put distance between them or leaving would be even harder.

He spent most of his time working on school work or filling out scholarship applications. Dean stayed with him in Belvue until after his twenty-second birthday. Neither of them suggested going out to celebrate. Dean said anything over 21 wasn’t a landmark worth celebrating but both were more than slightly nervous about would would happen between them if alcohol was involved. Being as it was in the middle of the week anyway, they stayed in the actual day of his birthday. The weekend after they had their own little party which happened to be Super Bowl Sunday. Neither of them were very invested in the game but they each dared to drink a few beers (something they hadn’t done in some time) which allowed them to relax considerably as they watched the game, kicking back on the bed.

Sam particularly enjoyed Dean’s reaction to the halftime show.

“The hell?” Dean sat up from the bed suddenly, jarring Sam next to him. “What is this shit? Is this- Boy bands?  _Seriously?_  For the Super Bowl? _”_

Sam snickered, “Look, that one’s got a leather jacket just like yours.”

“Shut up,” Dean crossed his arms and leaned back against the headboard.

“I shouldn’t tell you this but for your birthday I  _was_  gonna get you leather pants to match your jacket. I just couldn’t find ones with sequins like I know you’d want,” Sam flashed his dimples at Dean.

“Shut your mouth.”

Sam laughed harder, brushing his shoulder, he fell comfortably against Dean’s arm.

“I wish this fuckin’ song would go ‘bye bye bye.’”

“Your singing is horrible Dean, but if hunting doesn’t work out you’re pretty enough to join a boy band. I think-”

“If you  _ever_  want to think again you’ll shut the hell up, dude,” Dean interrupted. “Aerosmith, okay. See, now this- No. No,  _not_  the  _Armageddon_  bullshit.” Dean lifted his hand, exasperated, “Aerosmith used to mean somethin’, man. Is nothing sacred?”

Sam slid his back down the bed, still giggling at his brother.

“Goddamn it! Now the boy band is back! What the hell kind of half time show is this, Sam?” Dean considered for a minute before asking, “You think Steven Tyler is a shifter? It’s the only explanation, right? Why else would he agree to this?”

With his head now in Dean’s lap, Sam wiped tears from his eyes. Looking up at Dean he agreed, “Definitely.”

“How far is Tampa? Think I should get Dad on that one?”

“I dunno, man. If we’re ganking Steven Tyler I want in. Gotta get his autograph before, though.”

“Well, duh. For fun we can even take out the boy band, huh Sammy?”

“And then can we go to Disney World?” Sam asked sarcastically, smiling up at Dean.

Dean shook his head, “Sorry to break it to you but they don’t got rides big enough for sasquatches.”

Smiling to himself, Sam turned back to the TV. He was glad that he and Dean were able to find a comfortable rhythm again. And this time he wasn’t going to screw anything up. That night was the first since Dean returned that he slept in the same bed as Sam. He didn’t make a habit of it, the following night he returned to the couch, but it meant enough to Sam that he was able to without freaking out.

After the Super Bowl Dean was gone too soon. A few days into February John called him looking for backup. This time when Dean left he actually said goodbye to Sam and promised it wouldn’t be too long, couple weeks at most.

Sam dove back into applying for late entry scholarships. He kept thinking the more the better and he had the time for it especially without his dad and Dean over his shoulder.

When he had the chance he had been calling Bobby, checking in with him about any mail. Sam was always a bit disappointed to find there was nothing, even though it was still early. He had told Bobby that he would always contact him first so as not to arouse suspicion if Dean or John happened to hear him on the phone.

Near the end of February with Dean still gone, Sam called again to check in.

“Hey, Bobby,” Sam bit his lip.

“Hey, Sam. How’ve you been? I’d ask how your dad and Dean are but I just talked to them yesterday. Dean says they’re havin’ some trouble with a skinwalker.”

“I’m good, Bobby. So, I was wondering-”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

“Sorry,” Sam mentally chastised himself. “How are you?”

“Yeah, okay, I know you just got your hopes up. Well, son, got some news for ya.”

“They came?!” Sam asked smiling.

“Now, hold on-”

“Oh,” Sam frowned. His heart raced, “Are they small ones? They’re rejection letters aren’t they? How many? Which schools?”

“Sam” Bobby interrupted. “They’re not from schools, they’re different organizations. Didn’t wanna open them.”

“Open them!”

“Hold on,” Bobby grumbled.

Sam could hear him fumble with paper through the line, “What’s it say?”

“Well if I knew I was sitting on a fortune I would have run off with it.”

“Yeah?” Sam smiled, “How much is it?”

“This one says $2500. And you got a small pile more.”

His stomach jumped, “Seriously?”

“I’m not makin’ this up, kid.”

“This is great! Thank you so much Bobby! Okay, I need to come and pick them up. If there’s any paperwork I need to do- and god, I just want to see them, you know? I’ve been working  _so_  hard and now there’s actually something to show for it,” Sam rambled quickly.

“Congrats, kid.”

“Okay, I can come down on… Saturday. Say, Bobby, how busy did you say Dad and Dean were?”

“Busy enough that they’re not coming back this weekend.”

“Great, okay. Perfect. I have Dad’s truck so, I guess that means I have about a-” Sam paused to calculate, “Seven hour drive? Is Saturday good for you?”

“How about we cut that down, huh? I have an artifact I need to pick up in Sioux City. Meet there Saturday afternoon?”

“Yeah, that’s great! Thanks, Bobby. I really mean it.”

“I know you do, kid.”

Sam could barely contain his excitement on the drive to meet Bobby. When he saw him he gave him a big hug. The had supper together then Sam was back on his way to Belvue. It was a long day on the road but he was too happy and full of energy to care. From the amount that had gathered at Bobby’s he had nearly $9,000 in scholarships. That was almost half of his first year tuition for some of the more expensive schools he applied to. And if he didn’t get accepted to those he’d have more than enough for some of the state colleges. And, hell, it was still early in the year. There were still many opportunities to apply for more plus financial aid. Sam couldn’t believe that he actually had proof, right in front of him, that yes, he  _was_  going to get out of hunting.

The thought made him euphoric, but his mind couldn’t help but drift back to Dean. In the days following, he found himself texting his brother more often, checking in.

He wanted to tell him. He wanted Dean to be just as excited for him as he was. Hell, he wanted a dad that would be proud of his accomplishment but he knew even telling Dean might risk his chances.

Either way, by the time Dean came back to check on him, the end of February, he was relieved to have him back. Now that he had tangible proof he was leaving, every day spent away from Dean ate away at him. He was determined to make their last few months together the best he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28 January 2001 Super Bowl XXXV - Halftime show: Aerosmith, 'N Sync, Britney Spears, Nelly, Mary J. Blige, and Tremors featuring The Earthquake Horns
> 
> Check out the halftime show on youtube! <3 I loves me my boybands!


	8. Chapter 8

Dean returned to Belvue to find Sam in an exceptional mood. It was a relief to see him genuinely happy. Spending periods of time away from each other had been better for them than he expected. That’s not to say Dean didn’t still feel the unnameable gravitation towards his brother. His eyes still lingered longer than necessary and his stomach still flipped after reuniting from weeks of not seeing him. Dean knew he hesitated to break their embrace and he knew Sam was doing the same. But though he was aware of all of it, it did not break his resolve.

Spending his time split between Sam and John, Dean found perspective. Alone with Sam, they had their own world, just the two of them, and it was too easy for Dean to get lost in it. Stepping outside, getting back into the real world with his dad,  Dean could see it for what it really was. How wrong it really was. How much of a goddamn idiot he’d been to let them go there to begin with. He couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to himself that the apple pie life with his brother was the atrocious act instead of all the decapitations and grave desecration with his dad.  _That_  thought in itself was only further proof of how depraved it was, not condonation that it was permissible as Sam had tried to convince him.

While he stayed in Belvue he arranged a light, flexible work schedule at a bike repair shop downtown. Being as it was winter they didn’t need much help but they put Dean to use when he was available. It kept him busy while Sam was in school at any rate.

Towards the end of March Sam was off of school due to spring break so John insisted they meet up with him a few hours away for a salt-and-burn. Dean was surprised at how little Sam complained about giving up his break at first. Until the car ride back to Belvue. They had a heated fight, the worst in well over a month. Dean had been hoping that Sam was finally growing the hell up but figured he only had himself to blame for thinking that was the case.

“What if I had something planned with my friends, Dean? I’m so sick of him ordering us around and you never doubt him, never question him!”

Dean gripped the wheel tight and looked out the window, anger beginning to boil, he avoided his brother’s eyes, “Yeah, Sam, I’ve heard this one before.”

“No, Dean, you haven’t. I have five minutes to myself and Dad needs me? Fine, I’ll go on a damn salt-and-burn, and you’re right, I _do_  put up a fight. You’ve heard it a thousand times. But Dean, what about you?  _Why_  do you let him do it? Why do you listen to every little damn thing he says, huh?”

“Sam,” Dean’s voice warned.

“No, Dean, I wanna know. Why the hell are you ruining your life for him? You could be anything, Dean! You could  _do_  anything.”

“We’re helping people, Sam. You know that,” Dean was thankful that he was only a few minutes from the motel. He wanted the conversation over. Now. “Where else am I gonna find that, huh?”

“I think you’re afraid.”

Furrowing his brow, Dean finally looked at his brother. Sam’s arms were crossed and he was bouncing his legs in frustration. “Afraid? Damn it, Sam, I know you hit your head a time or two but you already forget that we hunt goddamn monsters? What  _exactly_  am I afraid of?”

“You’re afraid of having to go out there and make a real life without hustling, without lying to everyone.” Sam laughed bitterly, “And you’re scared shitless to actually have a real relationship with someone.” Sam shook his head, “A  _meaningful_ relationship not just screwing.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, “You don’t know a damn thing about it, Sam, so how about you shut the hell up.” Dean turned sharp into the parking lot and pulled into the spot in front of their door. He shifted hard, putting the Impala in park. His heart was racing and he felt hot and suffocated by the tense atmosphere.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve there, Dean? Well,  _sorry_ ,” Sam mocked. “Wouldn’t want to make you actually think about your life and your choices for once. Might hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you, Sam. You want to know why the hell I’m still here? You  _really_  want to know what kept me so goddamn close to Dad and why I keep throwing myself into hunt after hunt  _all_  these years, huh?” Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother, “It’s  _you,_  you jackass. You think I didn’t have plans of my own? I had shit I wanted to do, Sam, but guess why I couldn’t? Can’t leave the baby alone for five minutes. It’s not like Dad ever cared when it was me, but no! Someone had to look out for precious Sammy.” Blood was rushing through his heart, beating hard. His stomach was knotting and he was ready to throw a punch.

“What was I supposed to do, Sam? Huh? Find my own place? Leave you with Dad? Look at the bitch fit you throw when I go on a hunt for a few days without telling you. And you  _really_  expect me to believe that you  _want_  me to get out of hunting?” He shook his head, seething. Still gripping the wheel tight he breathed, “Fuck you, Sam. And get the hell out of my car.”

The air between them was charged and Dean could feel his rage radiate off of him.

Finally, Sam spoke softly, “Dean I-”

“Get out of my fuckin’ car, Sam, before I  _make_  you get out.”

Dean turned away from his brother to avoid looking at him. He felt as Sam opened the door and stepped out. When he shut the passenger’s side the car shook and Dean reluctantly turned to watch his brother enter their room in Belvue.

The second the motel door slammed shut, Dean peeled out of the parking lot.

He quickly found himself back on the highway heading in the direction they had  just come. The direction towards John who was preparing for the next hunt. It had been Dean’s intentions to stay with Sam but after that fight he wanted out and as far away as possible.

Dean didn’t quite make it to John. He saw a few billboards advertising a diner and bar joint so he pulled off the road. It was a dive like all the others, but out in the country, most likely keeping the townships thoroughly lubricated.

He didn’t have a plan in mind other than get shitfaced and sleep in his car. Then in the morning he could track down his dad and throw himself back into the hunt. Of course, Dean was lucky enough to meet Brandy in the bar. Brandy. His favorite drink and his favorite gal. He was surprised the line actually worked on her but soon he was taking her out to give her a backseat tour of Baby.

With his mind clouded, he refused to think about the last time he had been in there. With Sam. He forced his mind blank as he fucked her hard, trying not to take his frustrations out on her. She seemed to like it, though.

Far too soon Brandy was gone and Dean was alone, left only with the sinking feeling in his stomach as he stared at the ceiling of the Impala.

He heard a chirping sound and fumbled to find his pants. Digging his phone out of the pocket, Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw he had missed messages.

_SW 12:47 AM: I’m sorry, Dean. Will you come back? Please?_

_SW 1:24 AM: I was mad and I shouldnt have taken it out on you_

_SW 2:51 AM: Come on Dean. Please? At least let me know youre ok_

_SW 3:18 AM: just send anything i dont care just let me know youre ok_

_SW 3:42 AM: im about 5 min away from callin dad just send a blank msg or somethn_

Dean inhaled deep and with heavy thumbs he pounded his reply.

_DW 3:51 AM: fine sam_

As he was about to set down his phone he got another text.

_SW 3:52 AM: come back dean. im sorry. i was an ass i know_

_DW 3:57 AM: wont b bak 2nit_

_SW 3:58 AM: where are you? need a ride? I can be there in 5 min_

_DW 4:07 AM: no u wnt im 3 hrs soth. thnkn bout my lif choics. gonna hunt 2mrw bc i cnt mak my own decisons_

Dean was pissed. And he was tired. And drunk. Sam was the one who had all the options in life. Dean never had an opportunity. He never had a childhood. Dean was stuck raising his brother and he accepted it long ago. It wasn’t Sam that he blamed, and it wasn’t John. Dean always knew he had chances to get out of the life if he really wanted to but up against Sammy there was no choice. He knew Sam would always win and it made his heart ache that his brother couldn’t see it after all these years.

Dean only wanted to sleep but he couldn’t help but send another message.

_DW 4:13 AM: u dnt know evrthng i did for u sam. evrythin i woud do. ur a selfish dick_

_SW 4:15 AM: i know, Dean, im sorry. just come back_

_DW 4:18 AM: way 2 drnk cnt drive_

_SW 4:19 AM: in the morning then?_

_DW 4:20AM: no_

Dean turned his phone off and let the night cloud over him. He was passed out within fifteen minutes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He knew he fucked up. Big time. When Sam walked into the dark motel room he could still feel the rage from his brother in the air around him. He had been the most incredible ass and he didn’t blame his brother a second for kicking him out of the car.

Flipping on the light, Sam walked over to the bed and sat down defeated. He knew he had to give Dean his space but the ache in his heart made him want to call.

All these years Sam had been looking at his brother like a mindless drone for their Dad’s war. Sam had never contemplated  _truly_  what it would have meant if Dean really had left. If Dean had actually gone to college and left Sam to drift around the country with John, Sam knew he wouldn’t have been able to recover from the loneliness and abandonment he would have felt. It wasn’t right but he’d resent him for it and John even more.

Thinking about that made him feel even more guilty about applying for schools. Which, actually, reminded Sam to make a guilty call to Bobby and check in since it had been over a week since his last call.

“Well kid,” Bobby said, “You ready to celebrate?”

He perked up and quickly asked, “Really, Bobby? Which ones? Did you open them?”

“Didn’t open them but there are about three of ‘em that look like novels here.”

“Open them, Bobby!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to be the one to do this? Pretty big deal, Sam. I don’t wanna take that away from you.”

“No, Bobby,” he pleaded. “Just open them, please? I need to know.”

After what seemed like an eternity Bobby finally said, “Well, University of Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Kansas all want you, Sam. Congratulations, kid. You more than earned it.”

“I’m in?” Sam was stunned. “Bobby, am I really?”

“Yeah. You’re in.”

It was undefinable, the relief that bled through his body. The most difficult part was done. He had a place to go. He was getting out and it was  _certain._  All that was left was waiting to see what other options rolled in but now it was all in his hands. For the first time in his life he had control and multiple options.

“Bobby, will you call me as soon as any others come? And just open them, okay? Call me with the ones that say yes.”

“Sure thing, Sam.”

When he hung up the phone he fell back on the bed laughing. It was like a dream. He wished more than anything he could call Dean.

_Dean._

As the time drew closer his guilt worried at him more intense than ever. Sam always knew that it would be hard on him but after the fight in the car Sam finally could see how much Dean was entwined in his life. His brother gave up his entire future so Sam wouldn’t be alone. And Sam was going to repay him by ditching his ass as soon as he could.

Sam was a selfish asshole, and he knew it.

But it didn’t change the fact that there were too many reasons to go and not enough to stay. He once again reminded himself that leaving meant he’d finally get a normal life. He’d be able to make  _real_  friends, have a real girlfriend, get a good job without having to run scams. Most importantly he’d be safe. And, though leaving his brother was nearly the only con, he was lying if he didn’t admit it wasn’t also a mark in the pro column.

What happened between them had started so slow. Fooling around together while their dad was gone or even when he wasn’t. There was a time when it didn’t matter and it really wasn’t a big deal. Then everything flipped like a switch, illuminating the dark desires Sam had kept hidden from himself. From then it kept building. He wasn’t sure when it escalated but Sam thought about fucking his brother every damn day. It scared him, the things he wanted to do. While Dean was gone his imagination blossomed into something twisted and dark. It was carnal and unrecognizable. A riptide of violence that made his heart race, stomach churn, and dick twitch with interest. No longer were his thoughts flirting around third base. Growing from the loneliness of his brother’s absence, Sam allowed himself to find solace in his warped thoughts. His fantasies became more elaborate. A favorite was the anticipation of his brother walking in unannounced so Sam could bend Dean over his desk, rut against his smooth skin. He contemplated it more than once while doing homework. Or hell, fucking Dean against the shower wall with steam rising just this side of  _too_  hot. Wet skin sliding over each other. It was all he could think about while he was showering.  
  
But his favorite,  _Jesus,_  the Impala. Their home, their  _real_ home. And not in the backseat but he dreamt of holding his brother’s wrists, tight and bruising behind his back, and bending him over holding his neck down hard. Right across the front of the car, right there, he’d see what it looked like for Dean to paint the hood as Sam thrust into him. It made him shiver with self hatred every time he gave in and worked himself hard in the night.

It was a significant and alarming reason why Sam had to leave. He increasingly had no willpower around his brother. He was struggling as it was, but if he even  _considered_  hunting as a career, he would never be able to stay away from Dean. And they both deserved more than that. Dean needed to learn to live without him. He  _needed_  to find other people to care about. A real girlfriend for once.

With Sam gone, Dean would have that chance. Sam only made Dean’s life worse and now he knew if it weren’t for him, Dean would be out there living a normal life.

It was with that thought he reached quickly for his phone and texted his brother. After Dean’s last ‘no’ Sam tried a few more times to get him to come back but Dean could be as stubborn as any Winchester. He finally let himself sleep with thoughts racing of escaping to college and leaving Dean in his wake.

The next few days were miserable for Sam. Dean still wouldn’t come back, and besides a few passive aggressive texts to check in, Dean wasn’t speaking to him.

With only a few months of school left Sam was even finding it difficult to concentrate on classes. ‘Senioritis’ was in full swing. Over the semester Sam had gotten to know a few of the other misfits. They congregated at lunch and Sam was happy enough to be accepted by them.

One day at lunch he was nudged by a fellow loner that Sam loosely called a ‘friend,’ “Hey, Winchester, Rachel’s been givin’ you mad eyes, dude.”

Looking up from the book he was reading, Sam asked, “What was that?”

His friend, Brad, lifted his eyebrows, “Rachel Nave. She’s totally checking you out.”

“Who is she?”

Brad nodded across the room, “Blonde. Sitting over by the jocks. She’s one of the preppies.”

Sam looked across the room and his eyes landed on a girl with shoulder length curly blonde hair. She smiled at him and lifted her hand to send a small wave towards him causing Sam to look away quickly.

“Was that to me?” He blushed.

Laughing, Brad said, “There’s no one behind you.”

Daring to look up again he saw Rachel was no longer looking his way. She was smiling and talking with her friend across the table.

Studying her quietly, Sam asked, “What’s her deal?”

Scoffing, Brad replied, “That’s what I’m wondering. She’s way out of your league, dude. She never goes for the nerds.”

“No, I mean, tell me about her. Is she nice?”

Brad shrugged, “She’s not a bitch. I guess she’s alright. She’s hot, anyway. Hey, Tom,” Brad called down the table. “How would you describe Rachel Nave?”

“Hot? Kinda a prude,” the kid shrugged. “You asking her out?”

“She’s eye fucking Winchester.”

Turning a shade a red, Sam brought his book up, slouched down in his chair, and pretended to read again.

The kid down the table laughed, “Rachel? Doubtful.”

As the kids at his table continued to talk, changing the subject, Sam tried to recall any classes he’d had with her. He couldn’t think of a single one. From that day forward Sam kept an eye on her. They’d occasionally catch glances and she’d smile sweetly at him. Sam would smile back then quickly turn away.

He was suddenly realizing that the experiences he had with girls had been largely encouraged by alcohol. Without anything to boost his confidence, Sam was exceedingly awkward whenever Rachel was nearby.

But with Dean still gone she was a good distraction at the very least. When he saw her he could pretend to be normal. There she was, a pretty blonde classmate that he made eyes at in the hallway. He was just like any other teenager. And she even made eyes back. Sam wasn’t sure what to do about it or if he wanted to do anything at all, but it was a nice vacation from his usual life and he could almost pretend he was like everyone else.

In the last week of March, as Sam stood at his locker changing books, he felt a pulsing vibration from his pocket. Fishing out his phone he saw it was Bobby. With his heart racing, he flipped it open and answered, trying to hide the call by shielding himself in his locker.

“Bobby? Did more come?”

He heard Bobby laugh on the other end, “I figured you wouldn’t answer. Thought you were in school.”

“I am but I have to know-”

“Stanford,” Bobby stated calmly.

Heart stopping, “Stanford. What about Stanford? What did they say? Did they rej-”

“You’re in, Sam.”

With his heart stopping a smile began to creep on his face. Sam breathed, “Stanford accepted me? I’m accepted into Stanford? Bobby are you messing with me? I can’t-”

“Sam, you’re in,” Bobby interrupted. “It’s real and it’s right in front of me. You’re goin’ to Stanford, if that’s what you want. You got a few more scholarships waiting on my table too.”

After arranging a time for Sam to pick up his letters, he ended the call in complete elation. He couldn’t believe that he was really doing it. He was actually going to quit hunting and make a life of his own.

His heart was light and he was nearly running down the hall. Turning a sharp corner, Sam ran directly into a girl and her friends coming around the other side.

Her books fell to the ground as Sam profusely apologized, “Oh, my god, I am so sorry.” Despite the collision, Sam couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face.

The girl, a short redhead he thought was named Jenny, was crouching on the ground trying to pick up her books. “What the hell? Why weren’t you watching where you were going?”

Sam bent down to help her, “I am  _so_  sorry! I really didn’t mean to-” Sam froze. As he stood up his smile dropped. Rachel Nave was standing next to her friend. Face heating quickly, Sam dodged his gaze back to Jenny. “Really, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She stood and brushed off some of her textbooks. Annoyed, she replied, “Fine.”

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked.

“Uh- me?” Sam scratched his head. “Fine. Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“Um, you didn’t run into me.”

Internally chastising himself, Sam quickly stammered, “Right. No. You’re good. I didn’t... hit… you. So, you’re fine.” He took a deep breath, “Why wouldn’t you be, right?” Laughing nervously, he started to turn away. “Um, well, if you guys are okay… I’ll just… be going then.”

Smiling awkwardly, Sam stepped to the side and walked past them. He heard giggling behind as he cowardly retreated down the hall. Furrowing his brow, Sam shook his head and breathed quietly to himself, “Idiot!”

In that moment, reveling in his embarrassment, he made the immediate decision to skip the rest of the school day. It’s not like Stanford was going to kick him out for it and he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else anyway.

Just as he was about to turn down the hall to leave the school he heard someone calling his name. He stopped abruptly and closed his eyes, shaking his head to himself. Inhaling and putting on his best smile he turned around, “Hey, Rachel. Sorry again about-”

Rachel laughed, interrupting him, “Are we going through that again?”

“Oh, um, no,” he gave her a small smile. She looked at him expectantly so Sam asked, “Was there something you wanted?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to a movie on Saturday?”

“Oh,” Sam blinked, stunned. “A movie? Um, yeah. Yeah, that would be... great.”

“Okay, cool. So... do you want to pick me up?” She bit her lip.

“No!” Sam shut his eyes quickly.

“Oh, uh, that’s okay if you don’t-”

“No. No, not that! Yes, I do, and I’ll definitely pick you up, but I just remembered, I can’t Saturday because I’m gonna be out of town. How about Friday? Or Sunday? Or Thursday night? I’m free practically any day but Saturday.” Sam bit his lip to keep himself from blurting out anything else like the idiot he was. Saturday he was supposed to meet Bobby to pick up his letters.

Rachel laughed and looked away, “Okay, Sam. Thursday night?”

“That would be perfect.”

Biting her lip again, Rachel asked, “So, do you think I could have your number?”

“Right!” Sam said awkwardly, dropping his backpack he dug out a pen. They hashed over the details and exchanged numbers. Sam programmed her’s in immediately then left with an awkward goodbye.

Smiling to himself as he walked to his truck, he had just had one of the best days of his life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean had to admit, he was pretty proud of himself. He hadn’t had much confidence that he’d be able to stay away from Sam as long as he had. As it was, John put him to good use on his hunt and Dean didn’t have much time to spend on thoughts of Sam. Not  _much_  time. Still happened. It still ate at him as he was trying to fall asleep at night. He found that it was much easier if he hit the bars before coming home to crash. It kept his mind nice and numb.

After a couple of weeks he was really starting to miss him, though. It was already into April. Dean realised that it had been almost a year since the ‘incident’ that changed things so drastically between them. A year since John and Sam switched bodies and Dean had had the world’s worst epiphany.

Slowly, reluctantly, Dean had picked up his phone more often to text his brother. Sam was being exceptionally nice to him which he figured was due to guilt from their last fight.

_DW 1:17 PM: hunts almost done_

_SW 1:33 PM: Are you coming back?_

_DW 1:36 PM: thinkin bout it_

_SW 1:57 PM: Yes. Come back, Dean._

_DW 2:01 PM: miss me that much?_

_SW 2:03 PM: I always miss you when you’re gone_

Dean’s stomach jumped and he couldn’t hold back a small smile.

_DW 2:05 PM: couple days ill be back_

Turning the screen of his phone off, Dean set it down and finished sharpening his knives. While he was working he was most definitely not waiting for a familiar ping of an alert noise on his phone. And he was certainly not disappointed when he didn’t receive any until the following night.

_SW 1:20 AM: Dean! When will you be back? I don’t know what to do_

Blinking at the screen in the dark, Dean quickly replied.

_DW 1:21 AM: whats wrong? u ok?_

_SW 1:23 AM: i’m fine, no monsters. a girl asked me to prom and I dont know what to do!_

_SW 1:24 AM: i panicked! i said yes_

Dean let out a sigh of relief. He had been momentarily convinced that his brother was dying on the motel floor or held captive by psycho freaks. His relief was brief as he realized that it was girl problems. Girl problems meant there was a girl. Dean ran his fingers through his hair.

He swore to himself he wasn’t going to be a jealous ass about Sam anymore. If Sam had a girlfriend then Dean was going to support him no matter how much it made his skin crawl. And at least he could be relieved it was a  _girl_  this time.

Clenching his jaw, Dean responded.

_DW 1:35 AM: u already got the motel room. think u got it covered_

_SW 1:36 AM: i dont know what to wear! I cant dance! I think im supposed to get her flowers. Dean you need to come back_

_DW 1:41 AM: u kno who ur talkin to right? what makes u think i know about proms and shit?_

_SW 1:42 AM: Im desperate Dean_

_DW 1:45 AM: i can see that_

Biting his lip, hesitating, he sent another message.

_DW 1:46 AM: be back 2mrw. go to sleep_

The drive back to Belvue put Dean on edge. The silver lining, he supposed, was that at least he  _knew_  about this one. Knowing didn’t do anything to put himself at ease, however. It was a long walk from the parking lot to the door of Sam’s room.

Sticking his spare set of keys into the door, he unlocked it and walked in.

“Dean!” Sam had been sitting on the couch with a book in his hands. He instantly rushed to Dean and wrapped his arms around him. He was strong and solid around Dean’s arms and Dean couldn’t help but lean into him. Sam smelled so good and he’d been missing that since he left.

“I was only gone like two weeks, Sam.”

Sam dropped his arms and leaned back, “Yeah, I know, but with how you left, and everything I said-”

“Don’t worry about it, Sam,” Dean dropped his duffel and looked around the room.

“No, Dean, I’m sorry, okay? I was just being a jerk and taking it out on you.”

“I said it’s fine, Sam, so you can stop the Lifetime Channel speech,” he walked over to the bed and sat down. Dean watched as Sam bit his bottom lip and looked away from him. His brother scratched his head and sat back on the couch.

They both began to speak at the same time, talking over each other.

Dean smirked, “You go first.”

“No, no, that’s okay. What were you gonna say?”

Shaking his head, he stated, “Nothin’ really. Just gonna ask about your girlfriend is all. How’d you get roped into the prom?”

Sam sighed and rubbed his palms over his face, “I don’t have a damn clue!”

“She working some hoodoo on ya, Sammy?”

Rolling his eyes he said, “No. I mean, she’s just this girl from school.”

Dean tried to nonchalantly dig in his bag to find a knife to play with as he asked, “So… not a girlfriend then?”

Squirming uncomfortably, Sam replied, “I don’t know, man. We went on a few dates.”

Dean looked up abruptly, “Oh?” He cleared his throat and looked away again, “She hot?”

“Dean,” Sam whined, “She’s…  _fine.”_

“‘Fine’ like, ‘okay’? Or ‘fine’ like, ‘ _goddamn_ that’s a fine piece of ass _’?”_ Sam threw a pillow at him forcing Dean to smile.

“Don’t be a jerk,” Sam shook his head. “I dunno, it was weird. Like, we were kind of smiling to each other in the halls and stuff, nothing really, you know? But then one day she just gets all bold and asked me out on a date. So we went to the movies and then a few days later we got together again, and it just kept happening. The next  thing I know, she’s asking me to the prom. And I don’t know what the hell to say so I said, ‘sure’. What the hell was I thinking Dean?”

“Aww, Sammy and his first prom. Adorable,” Dean teased. “Remind me to break out the camera.” Sam got up from the couch and walked over. He sat next to Dean on the bed. Dean tensed next to him as their shoulders brushed.

“Yeah, it’s funny for you.  _You_  know what the hell you’re doing with women. I have no freakin’ idea, dude!”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Dean bumped his shoulder into Sam’s.  
  
“Hey, I’m not  _that_  clueless, Dean.”

Dean looked down to his jeans and pulled at invisible lint. Thinking back to the car with Stephanie and her friend, Dean softly admitted, “No. No, I remember.” He could feel Sam tense up next to him. Quickly clearing his throat, he added, “So what do you need me here for, huh?” He meant it as a light and honest question but even to his own ears it sounded pathetic.

“Dean,” Sam pleaded softly. “Come on, you know  _everything_. I need my big brother’s help here, okay?”

Nodding but uncertain, Dean asked, “With what, Sam?”

“I just- I don’t know. I’ve been so lonely here, Dean. All I do is school and come here to a miserable motel. I just want you here with me, you know? And with the prom, I really have no freakin’ clue.” He sighed and admitted quietly, “I just need you, okay?”

“Alright,” Dean nodded to himself, his heart warming. “Well, you got me, Sam.” He nudged him again with his shoulder and smiled sadly.

Whispering, Sam added, “Dean, I really am sorry, um, about before.” Dean could feel his brother’s eyes on him as he continued, “I don’t know what I would have done without you. You know, if you left me with Dad.”

“Probably twenty-to-life for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. You and Dad get goin’ without a ref and, hell, that’s the end of it for one of you.”

Smiling wide, Sam asked, “Aww, and your money is on me? That’s real sweet, Dean.” He smirked at his brother.

“Tough call. You have the younger body, you’re in better shape. But Dad’s got the experience.” Dean huffed, “Dad in your body? Look out, man.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Sam nodded and quietly spoke, “It’s been almost a year already.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, “I know.” Feeling the warmth of Sam’s arm next to him, Dean began to feel more on edge.

“I was so worried I’d be stuck like that forever, you know?”

Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Dean pushed into Sam’s arm, “Nah, Sammy, I’d never let that happen to you.”

Huffing a quiet laugh, he replied, “I think that was the most research I’ve ever seen you do.”

“Pretty sure that  _was_  the most I ever did.”

Dean’s heart was racing and he couldn’t quite place why except Sam was so close to him and he smelled so good and he had missed him so damn much. They both sat quietly, basking in each other’s warmth.

Voice barely above a whisper, Sam said, “I’m really glad you came back, Dean.”

Dean never wanted to move from that cheap motel bed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachel Nave - one of Azazel's minions who had been keeping watch over Sam as per 5.22 Swan Song


	9. Chapter 9

It was confusing for Sam how much Rachel seemed to like him. She was assertive in spending time with him but never clingy. He felt decidedly undecided about the whole situation. While Dean was gone, Rachel had been a good distraction. They hung out, went for walks, and spent time at parks. Rachel was even brave enough to pull Sam in for their first kiss near the swings. But something about her was disjointed. It was as if she had a certain persona for the world but then turned into a different person around Sam. Not that it was bad. It just made Sam consider her more closely.

Because of his hesitation Sam wasn’t overly interested in pushing too hard with her. He never brought her back to the motel. First of all, he didn’t want to explain why he was living in a motel. And secondly, he remembered what Dean thought of having Tyler over all the time. He wanted to avoid that conflict. So if he and Rachel were going to make-out he made sure to park his truck somewhere quiet. She never objected.

Rachel did, however, seem more than eager to push things along. While he was with her Sam felt twinging pangs of guilt festering at the back of his mind. He kept replaying Dean barging in on him with Tyler and, even though Sam suspected a large part of that was due to getting caught with a guy, Sam was still apprehensive about jumping into another physical relationship.

A week before prom Dean had finally insisted on meeting Rachel. It made him nervous to think of them together but at least this time Dean knew about her and was acting somewhat mature about the situation.

The idea of bringing her to the motel still made him uneasy so they arranged for dinner out. Sam anxiously waited for Rachel to come out of her house. He bit his lip as he saw her smile in his direction as she trailed out the front door of her house.

He waited patiently until she opened the door then greeted her nervously.

“Hey, Rachel.”

“Hi, Sam,” she smiled flashing her teeth.

Sam cleared his throat, “So, um, what all have I told you about my brother, again?”

“That his name is Dean,” she smirked. “That was pretty much the extent of the conversation.”

“Oh, right, okay.” Sam pulled the truck into drive and made his way to the restaurant they were to meet Dean. “Well, I should probably give you a heads up.”

“Ooh, do you have one of those protective older brother types? Is he worried about your virtue?” She teased.

Sam laughed awkwardly. He turned to look out the window in order to hide his blush. Her accuracy, though teasing, was a bit too on the mark for his comfort. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Well, Dean really hated the last person I dated so I’m kind of expecting the worst. If he acts like a total ass, it’s not you, okay? It’s pretty much his life goal to make me miserable from time to time.” Sam shrugged.

“Okay, now you have me a bit scared,” she replied.

“No, no, don’t be worried. He’ll be fine. But I just wanted to give you a heads up. There’s some bad history between us.”

“Your last girlfriend must have been pretty bad. You never told me about her.”

Sam inhaled, “Yeah, she was... something else.” Though he had plenty of practice in general, it was difficult for him to lie about Tyler.

“Sore spot? Did she break your heart?”

Laughing, Sam said, “No, not quite.” He bit his lip and took a moment to think before continuing, “Um, it was just difficult for Dean. He was going through a really rough time and I kind of ditched him when he needed me.” Sam tried to grasp anything that would resemble the truth, “I didn’t tell him much about it but he knew I was never around. Then he caught us together and just kind of exploded.”

“Oh, wow. That must have been awful! What did you do?”

“Well, fists were exchanged,” Sam blushed remembering that night. It was something he tried not to think about because remembering having his brother’s dick in his mouth was a step down a path he was trying to avoid. Sam cleared his throat, “I kicked his ass. He apologized later.”

“Oh, damn. You actually beat him up?”

“He deserved it,” Sam defended.

“I’m sure he did. Okay, now I am  _really_  nervous to meet him.”

“Don’t be. I just wanted to warn you in case he was being an ass. Like I said, he was going through a hard time and he isn’t normally like that.” Sam sighed before admitting, “I won’t be surprised if you end up  _really_  liking him. A lot of girls seem to.”

Sam took a chance to look over at Rachel in the passenger’s seat. She smiled and said, “You tellin’ me the Winchesters have good genes?”

Shrugging and smiling, Sam replied, “Nah, I’m just sayin’ women  _really_  seem to like my brother.” Women and men and even certain brothers.

When they finally arrived at the diner they walked in to see Dean at the far back booth with his back to them. Sam punched his arm as they reached the table then gestured for Rachel to slide into the booth. He followed next to her.

“Heya, Sammy. So, this is the beautiful Rachel I’ve been hearing so much about,” Dean leered.

Sam pursed his lips, “Rachel, this is Dean.”

“Hi,” she smiled sweetly and offered a small wave.

“Way to go, Sammy.”

“Dean,” he warned, glaring.

Surprising though it may be, Dean was actually able to control himself and hold a semblance of a conversation. He knew his brother hated small talk but Sam was impressed by his finesse. He asked about her classes, and prom, and all the bullshit he knew Dean didn’t give a damn about and after the first few attempts he even curbed his flirting.

Sam felt his anxiety slip away as the evening wore on and by the time he dropped Rachel off at home and returned to the motel he was in a great mood.

He opened to door to find Dean laying on the bed flipping through channels. The lights were off save for the screen of the TV flickering as Dean absently went from one station to the next. It was getting late so Sam began to get ready for bed. He used the bathroom and came back out to lay on the bed next to Dean who was still watching TV.

“You sleeping here tonight?” Sam asked. He finally took a close look at his brother and realized Dean had his brow furrowed. He looked mad.

Dean inhaled and finally said calmly and carefully, “I don’t like her, Sam.”

“What?” Sam scoffed. “What the hell do you mean?” He made a move to sit up but suddenly the room was plunged in darkness. Dean had turned the TV off.

He felt as his brother slid down the bed but remained lying next to him. With the room unnaturally silent, Dean stated cautiously, “There’s just…  _something_  about her, Sam.”

“What the hell could she have  _possibly_  done to make you think something is wrong with her?”

Sighing, Dean answered, “It wasn’t anything she  _did_. Can’t explain it, Sam.” His voice was timid and Sam thought it gave away his real concern.

“That’s because there’s nothing to explain, Dean, god!” He crossed his arms angrily, shaking the bed and his brother with him. “You know what this is, _right,_  Dean? Even you aren’t stupid enough not to know what’s  _really_  going on here.”

Sam felt as Dean turned on his side to face him, “ _That’s_  not it, Sam.”

“Like hell it isn’t! You need to drop this jealous bullshit, Dean, I swear to god. What do you expect me to do, huh?”

“Sam-”

“No, I want an answer,” he interrupted. “What the _hell_  do you expect me to do? We haven’t touched each other in goddamn months and I’m not gonna go through my whole life without a girlfriend because  _you_  can’t deal with it. I’m trying to get on with my life, okay? This is what we agreed, what  _you_  wanted, and you-”

“Sam!” Dean said firmly. “That’s not it, I  _swear._ ”

“Yeah right, Dean,” he huffed turning to his side to face his brother. With his vision adjusting, he blinked to focus on Dean. He couldn’t read his face but he could  _feel_  the sadness next to him.

“Sam, I swear, I know what I said okay? And you- you-” Dean closed his eyes, “I want you to date, okay? I  _want_  that. You should be with someone but just… there’s something wrong with her, man.”

“Oh, go to hell, Dean,” Sam turned over to his other side, immaturely facing away from his brother.

Sam was starting to shake with anger. Not just at Dean but at his whole damn life. He didn’t even  _like_  Rachel and if he was honest he’d admit to his brother that he felt it too. Something  _was_  off. But Dean couldn’t know it and he was only trying to ruin the one normal thing in his life. Rachel meant nothing to him when all he wanted to do was turn over and kiss his brother into the mattress. But he couldn’t. Rachel was all he had and Dean was being a selfish asshole trying to ruin it.

“Sam,” Dean moved closer. Sam felt as his brother’s hand moved to rest on his arm. Dean closed the gap between them, nudging in close next to him.

They hadn’t been so close in months and Sam couldn’t help but tremble with Dean firm against his back. He was mad as hell at his brother. Not only him but his whole existence. What did he do to deserve not having the right to fall into those arms? The ones that he knew wanted him so bad. Nothing had been fair in his life but feeling the way he did about his brother was egregious.

“What do you expect from me, Dean? What the hell do you expect me to do?” His anger was subsiding into desperation. If Dean wanted him to roll over, meet his lips, and never see Rachel again, Sam would have no problem obliging him.

“Sammy,” Dean brushed his nose against the back of Sam’s neck. He felt warm air puff over his skin causing him to shiver. “I mean it, okay? I want you to date. Just, will you promise me to be on your guard with her? Please?”

Sam relaxed considerably, “What is so horrible about her? I don’t see it.”

Sam felt as Dean shook his head, “I don’t know. Nothing. I don’t  _know._  Did you give her a silver test?”

Laughing bitterly, Sam replied, “What? Next date should I slip her a holy water roofie too?” He felt Dean shrug. Sam shook his head, “Dean, you need to let it go, man. Or change your mind about-” Sam swallowed back the limp in his throat. He took a breath knowing that going back to before wasn’t an option. “Something, needs to change, Dean.”

“Just promise me you wont let your guard down, okay?”

Sighing, Sam conceded, “Yeah, Dean. Okay.”

He felt the relief wash over his brother as he squeezed his arm, “Okay. Good.” Feeling disappointed at the loss, Sam felt the bed move as Dean let go of him and turned, climbing out of the bed.

“Dean, you don’t have to go. Say here tonight,” he whispered into the dark.

Dean inhaled and replied, “Not a great idea, Sam.”

And Sam knew why. They were both a fraction of a second away from ending up naked tangled in the sheets and no matter how much he wanted it, Sam knew Dean was right to resist. But, hell, if Dean changed his mind Sam would be with him in a second. He simply didn’t have the willpower his brother had.

As he lay in bed listening to the sounds of Dean adjusting on the couch, Sam thought about what Dean had said to him. He should have been expecting something and he was naive to think that they were both going to be fine pretending like they were a normal family who did average things and absolutely did not deviate from the ordinary. He hadn’t wanted to hurt him by dating Rachel but he didn’t know any other way to start distancing himself. He figured at least Dean was aware and had time to adjust but even so he still struggled.

It broke Sam’s heart to think of his brother lying not fifteen feet away, hashing over the same points, making himself miserable too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean was nothing if not devoted. He was unwavering in his dedication. When he made the decision to cut things off with Sam, he meant it. He also wasn’t dumb enough to think that he could meet his brother’s girlfriend and stay completely emotionally removed. He expected some nervousness and anxiety, maybe some desperation, and even to feel slightly bitter, but he hadn’t expected the odd ping of his instinct telling him that this chick wasn’t right.

It wasn’t in the words she said or how she behaved as an explicit example but instead it was the entire calculating demeanor. Yeah, he knew she was probably nervous and was feeling like she needed to be on her best behavior, but Rachel was dead in the eyes. Instinct taught him long ago to trust that feeling. But he played along. He fulfilled his obligation as doting brother interested in Sammy’s life, meanwhile the whole dinner he rolodexed through any supernatural creature he could think of that might fit her profile.

He came up empty handed but still, it was his duty as an older brother to give Sam the heads up.

And it went as well as expected.

Of course Sam thought he was being a jealous dick. He  _sounded_  like a jealous dick. Dean truly believed that wasn’t the case. Well, not entirely. He  _knew_  he was jealous, that was established long ago, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still determined to keep to himself and encourage Sam to have the most normal life he could as a hunter. He fucked his brother up so much and the guilt from stealing his childhood in that way ate at him while he was alone with his thoughts at night. So, yeah, he was fucked up and jealous of this Rachel chick, but he was also damn well set on making it up to Sam. And supporting Sam’s new interest was just part of it.

Dean knew his feelings towards her weren’t entirely based in jealousy due to his sick, perverted, incestuously depraved mind. Something  _was_  wrong with her.

But Sam was a smart kid. Dean knew more than anyone that he could take care of himself. He just didn’t want him to let his guard down.

He told Sam what he needed to say. It was done. All Dean could do now was wait until prom was over, school ended, and then they could move on. Rachel would be just another memory and Belvue would be dust in the wind.

The day of the prom Dean had a war raging within him. He promised Sam that he would leave the motel, give them some privacy. Sam dismissed him saying that he had no intentions of bringing her back to their room. Dean still insisted he’d stay gone and Sam reluctantly agreed. To his credit, Sam hadn’t been too distant from Dean after his confession of his thoughts of Rachel. He felt a guilty weight on himself that Sam thought he was jealous. Because, yes okay he was, but that wasn’t the point.

As Sam was in the bathroom trying to get ready for the evening, Dean leaned in the doorway watching him shave. “Shave today and you’ll be set all month, huh?” He asked.

Pursing his lips at Dean, Sam lowered his hand to flip him off. Dean smiled ruefully. Sam eyed him curiously and asked, “You need somethin’?” He turned back to the mirror and continued shaving.

Smirking, Dean replied sarcastically, “Naw. Jus’ my little boy is all grown up. Goin’ to the prom, graduating high school. Brings a little tear to my eye.”

Sam smiled and laughed despite himself, “Fuck you.”

“Might want to save that for Rachel,” Dean replied awkwardly rubbing at the door frame.

Dropping the hand with his razor, Sam looked to him sadly, “Dean, we’re not going to-”

“Take the Impala,” Dean interrupted.

“What?”

Clearing his throat, Dean said, “For prom. Take her tonight.”

“She’s yours, dude. I can’t-”

“No, come on man. I’m tryin’ to be nice here. Make a decent entrance, right?”

Sam bit his lip then turned it into a big smile, “Thanks, Dean.”

Gripping the frame tight, he added, “Just… no screwing in her, alright? Bring Rachel back here, I’ll be gone. Just not in Baby, okay?”

“Ugh,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, you don’t have to go anywhere, man. I’m not bringing her back here. We’re not-” Sam shook his head at a loss for words.

Dean looked away awkwardly. He never asked for details with Tyler but Dean knew his brother was still a virgin, with girls anyway. He knew it was stupid to think that Sam losing his virginity would change things between them but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness that he was losing his brother. Nodding, Dean added quietly, “Maybe you should, Sam.” He lifted his eyes to meet his brother’s. Sam was eyeing him carefully, with a desperate look. Dean couldn’t swallow back the lump in his throat and he couldn’t turn away.

Sam knew what Dean was implying. He knew that Dean thought it was time he got that over the hurdle. Maybe it would fix them. “Dean,” he pleaded quietly.

“You  _should_ , Sam,” he insisted smiling sadly. “I even promise  _not_  to punch this one.”

“Oh, well, if I know she’s safe from physical violence-” Sam smiled back. Taking a deep breath he said, “Look, she has to be home by 2:00 AM anyway, okay? So, maybe we’ll come back here for a couple hours before she needs to get home.”

Dean looked down, nodding.

“Will you come back, though? Please. I need you here tonight, man.”

Sighing, Dean bit his lip, “Okay, Sammy.”

Reluctantly leaving the doorway, Dean walked back into the main room. He listened as Sam continued to get ready. Flipping the TV on, he tried to ignore his brother as he came out to change into the cheap suit they rented with money Dean “earned” from hustling from pool.

He gave him a pat on the shoulder as he handed his keys to the Impala. Dean watched as Sam walked nervously out of the motel and drive off to pick up Rachel.

He knew as it got later he’d be heading to the bar but while he waited, he sat, milling over their situation, making himself miserable wallowing in his dialectic. No matter how much he told himself Sam  _needed_  to get laid, or how much he urged his brain to be proud of it, Dean couldn’t help but feel possessive towards his brother. Rachel wasn’t good enough for him, Dean knew it. Something was wrong with her.

Dean sat up from the bed quickly thinking. He would booby trap their room. If there was something wrong with her, Dean was going to find it. He worked quickly setting up wards, salting the doors, lacing all the beverages with holy water. He might not be there when Sam brings Rachel in but at least he will have done everything to protect him he could imagine.

Looking at his watch, Dean finally grabbed the keys to the truck and drove to the nearest bar.

He wasn’t in the mood to pick up any women and he pulled up the stool at the bar, though some of them had other ideas. Politely declining offers, Dean slammed back a few drinks and waited for the calm to wash over him.

Occasionally Dean would turn around, check out the room. Yeah he was on a mission to get smashed but he was a hunter first and still needed to  case the joint. At one point in the night he saw a man with dirty blonde hair check him out. At first glance Dean turned away. He wouldn’t admit it but it wasn’t uncommon for men to look his way, though it hadn’t happened in a while.

Swirling his drink at the bar, sloshing around the melting ice, it was the first time he ever seriously considered going home with a man. Bringing his glass to his lips, Dean turned back and saw the same man standing next to a small group. He was laughing and Dean never would have noticed before but he had to appreciate he  _was_  attractive. He wore a fitted black dress shirt tucked into nice pants and his hair was too perfectly styled back. His stomach twisted in knots thinking about it.

Dean turned back to the bar and thought for a moment. He tried to imagine himself in this nameless man’s bed. He wasn’t too clear on the mechanics of gay sex but he figured it couldn’t be much different than anal with a girl. Though, it suddenly brought on a range of questions about what it would be like to be on the receiving end. His mind quickly jumped to his brother and Tyler. From what Dean had seen, Sam appeared to be pretty knowledgeable, and Jesus, how assertive he had been with Dean that night he caught them together. He didn’t let his mind drift there very often but he was having a difficult time ignoring those thoughts the more his mind clouded from alcohol.

Feeling a nudge at his shoulder, Dean turned to see Mr. Business sit next to him at the bar. He cleared his throat remarked, “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Dean scoffed at the opening line and took a sip of his drink. Nodding, reluctantly catching the bait being offered he replied, “Just rollin’ through town.” He brought the cool glass to his lips and finished off his drink.

“What are you drinking? Can I buy you another?”

Snorting slightly, Dean turned to finally meet the man’s eyes. They were blue and sincere, and Dean had to admit the guy was definitely attractive as he looked back with a slight smirk on his face. Dean allowed his eyes to drift deliberately from the man’s face slowly down his body, taking in his broad shoulders and narrow hips, then back up to his face. Pursing his lips he said firmly, “I ain’t gay.”

The man’s smirk broke into a small smile and he gestured towards the bartender to refill Dean’s glass, “Didn’t ask if you were.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the man’s tenacity, “Pretty sure of yourself there. I’d say ‘cocky’ but not sure where that conversation'd lead.”

The man laughed, showing his perfect white teeth. And dimples. Jesus fuck, of course he had to have dimples.

“I’m Jason,” he said, “And you are?”

“I’m-” Dean paused considering, then cleared his throat. “ _I..._  am trying to decided where this night is headed and whether or not to give you my real name,” he answered honestly.

“Is that straight boy talk for, ‘call me whatever the hell you want’?”

Dean took a drink of his recently refreshed glass and smiled reluctantly. He nodded, conceding Jason’s point.

“So, where  _is_  this night headed?” Jason asked pointedly.

“Shit. Aren’t  _you_  forward?” Dean smirked.

“Just trying to figure out if I have a shot,” he smiled and shrugged. “I’d ask you out on a date but since you’re just rolling through, well, can’t blame a guy for trying to hook up with the hottest guy here.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Hesitating and biting his lip he couldn’t believe he was actually considering it. “Well,” he smiled back, “Now, I guess it would depend on what you’re after.”

Jason laughed, “Don’t tease me, man. If I don’t have a chance in hell you can tell me to fuck off.”

With the alcohol buzzing through his blood, and with thoughts of Sam back at the motel, Dean was feeling oddly sincere. He laughed sadly, “Look, I ain’t gay-”

“But?”

“But,” Dean said smiling, “I’m having a hell of a night and I probably wouldn’t say no to some,” he paused looking around the room nervously, “tension relief.”

“Be still my heart,” Jason smirked.

“Hey, man. You asked.” Dean shrugged, turning away to take a drink as his pulse started to race and he realized just exactly what he said and where the conversation was taking him. He hadn’t thought it through, but fuck it. If Sammy could find a guy to suck his dick then, goddamn it, Dean could too. He threw back the rest of his drink and turned to Jason, “You have some place? Before I lose my nerve.”

Standing from the bar throwing down some bills, Jason smiled and nodded to Dean to follow. He brought out the goddamn dimples again which Dean did everything in his power to ignore. He couldn’t help but nervously look over his shoulder. He felt like a bright spotlight screaming “cocksucker” was shining on him with knowing eyes following him out the room.

To his relief, no one was watching.

Jason walked towards the back of the building, Dean trailed behind still eyeing people nervously out of the corner. They exited through the back. He led him to a secluded back alley slightly down the road.

Dean’s heart pounded with each step. “Is this where you bring all the boys?” He joked, hoping to relief some of his apprehension but failing miserably.

“Just the ones rolling through town,” Jason teased. Grabbing Dean’s shoulders he pushed him firmly back into the wall.

Bouncing slightly, tensing, and fighting hard not to panic, Dean closed his eyes as Jason confidently rubbed his hands over the zipper on his pants. A brief moment passed when Dean was convinced this was the dumbest shit he’d ever pulled. And just what the hell was wrong with him coming out back with some asshole? But soon Jason had him hard and distracted in his jeans and those thoughts quieted into hushed murmurs.

Jason leaned closely and breathed next to his ear, “Anytime you want me to stop, just say so.”

“Not gonna wuss out on you, dude.”

Jason lifted an eyebrow, “Yeah? You sure about that?” He challenged Dean.

It felt like a threat and caused his heart to race faster. Dean wasn’t going to stop him. Through his buzz, he barely had a chance to realize that his zipper was open. He closed his eyes, focusing intently on the warm building sensation. He opened in time to feel Jason pull his boxers and jeans down to his thighs, his shirt long enough to cover him discreetly. Dean watched Jason as he crouched to his knees. Then he looked up flashing those motherfucking dimples, right before Jason’s mouth was suddenly enveloping him. He couldn’t help but moan at the unexpected movement.

Jason was good.  _It_  was fucking good. Maybe it had been too long since he’d last gotten off or maybe it was the fact that it was a guy (which he  _was not_ going to consider), but whatever the hell, Dean welcomed the distraction of the wet heat around him, warmly building pressure at the base of his spine.

Finally dropping his last reservations, he allowed the last bit of tension to drop from his shoulders and his mind to relax completely into Jason’s talented hands. He fought to keep his mind from drifting from Jason’s dimples to Sam’s but wasn’t surprised that it didn’t obey him. With flashes of his brother appearing behind his closed eyes it didn’t take long to build, tense and full. Dean pushed back in support against the hard bricks behind him, arching further into the heat of Jason’s mouth.

His hands massaged his balls, carefully and tenderly, and Dean was feeling fucking gone. His heart was pounding, racing as he felt Jason’s finger slip underneath and rub uncertainly.

Tensing automatically, Dean looked down to see Jason pull off his cock and spit on his hand. Jason looked up and breathed, “Widen your stance.”

Slightly dazed, not sure why the hell he was listening to Jason’s instruction, Dean shifted a foot moving it to the side allowing him more room for his hand. Jason was back on his dick and more confidently rubbing between Dean’s ass. A nagging part of his mind was screaming at Dean to stop what was happening because if having his brother’s dick in his mouth wasn’t gay enough then having some stranger’s fingers near his asshole was certainly pushing the limit.

However, a more inhibited part of his curiosity was winning. Though he’d never admit he was scared, his heart pounded hard in his chest as Jason increase the pressure of his finger. Finally breaching him, Dean hissed at the unexpected sensation of the tip of Jason’s finger pushing slowly inside of him.

“Fuck,” Dean breathed, arching his back into the wall, driving his dick further into Jason’s mouth.

He couldn’t help but moan into the night with each slow move of Jason’s finger and pump of the hand and lick around the tip of his cock. Then Dean shuddered as Jason’s finger curled and pressed against something within him that sent a vibration of pleasure streaming through his veins.

“Jesus,” he swore breathlessly into the night.

Jason continued to pick up his pace, sucking and twisting and licking and pumping and Dean was so fucking gone. Panting hard, he opened his eyes and looked down at the man sucking his cock. Hot and hard. Jason hummed against his dick just as his finger swept, pushing into him and Dean came, hot throbbing pulsation right down Jason’s throat.

Dean breathed heavily against the wall, lightly pounding his head back, trying to recover as he sweat in the alley. Jason removed his hands and Dean felt sinking nausea hit his stomach. The momentary respite from his life was over and as memories filtered in, he bit back at the sickening feeling growing inside himself.

Jason smiled, taunting him with those goddamn dimples. He stood and zipped himself back up, when Dean realized he must have jerked himself off while blowing him. Bad sex etiquette, he could admit, but just then he couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck.

Jason cleared his throat. For a moment Dean thought he was going to lean in to kiss him, a thought that horrified him which Jason must have seen. Instead Jason bit his lip, “I’d love to get your number but I’m not deluding myself into thinking you’d actually give it to me. So, just letting you know, I’m usually here every Saturday after work. No pressure to show but, if you’re interested, I know of a few other things you might want to try... you know… to relieve tension. Maybe even go crazy and make it to a bed.”

Even through the sick feeling in his stomach, Dean huffed a laugh. He shook his head and replied, “Not gonna be in town long.”

“Sure, I understand. But if you want to find me you know where to look,” Jason winked at him. “I’m heading back in. You?”

“What time is it?” Dean asked. He pulled out his phone to see it was only a little after midnight and he had a missed text from Sam. “Um, actually I think I need to head out.”

“Okay,” Jason nodded, walking backwards. “Hope to see more of you around.” He winked again, smiling.

Dean smiled back awkwardly and watched as he retreated to the bar. When Jason was gone he flipped open his phone.

_SW 12:17 AM: Took Rachel home. It’s safe to come back_

Fumbling with his phone, Dean responded quickly.

_DW 12:23 AM: waht hpnd?_

Walking around the building the long way, avoiding the bar, he ambled through the parking lot over to the truck. Stumbling to the door, Dean pulled it open and sat in the drivers seat.

_SW 12:25 AM: tell you later. where are you? need a ride?_

_DW 12:33 AM: yea thanks Sam_

Realizing it was stupid to text, Dean called his brother and gave him directions to the bar. He sat, waiting, pacing out his breathing. Forcing his mind not to think about hooking up with a fucking gay dude in the back alley of a goddamn bar.

When Sam got there, sans formal wear, he flashed his fake ID at Dean smiling, mocking him with his dimples. A fucking weakness Dean didn’t even know he had. Sam held his ID expectantly, implicating his desire to go into the bar.

“Ugh, Sammy. Can’t drink anymore, man. I’m callin’ it a night,” the rising churning feeling in his stomach protested the idea adamantly.

Sam smirked and pulled his brother out from the driver’s side. Dean felt Sam’s arms wrap around his side and guide him back to the bar without considering Dean’s protestation.

“I just want a beer, dude,” Sam smiled as he opened the door and walked Dean over to a booth. Sam slid in across from him at the table and ordered a drink.

“So, what happened?” Dean asked reluctantly as Sam drank his beer, resigned to being back in the bar. “How was it? Why’d she leave? First times can be short but  _I_  know for a  _fact_  you got more stamina than that, Sam.”

“Dean!” Sam replied in shock, choking on his drink. He kicked Dean’s shin under the table.

“Ouch. Asshole,” Dean rubbed it under the table, frowning. “Told you I had too much, dude.” He cleared his throat and tried again, “So, what happened?”

Sam shook his head, “Prom was fine. It was all… you know, formal. There was dancing. We went to an after party then Rachel suggested we get out of there. She was all for coming back to the motel but when she got outside the door she changed her mind. Complete 180. Said she wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go home.”

“Ha!” Dean crowed, smiling big, eyes crinkling in the corners. The first time all night he felt halfway decent. “I knew it!”

Sam shook his head confused.

“I warded the shit out of that place, dude. Salt everywhere. Holy water in the drinks. She’s evil, Sam, I know it. She sensed it and left. That’s _proof_. We should gank her, man.”

“We’re not  _killing_  my prom date, Dean! She’s not  _evil._  She probably got scared is all. We haven’t known each other that long. She just changed her mind, so I took her home.”

“Only an evil bitch would change her mind on you, Sammy.” Dean smiled at him and he watched as a blush rose to Sam’s cheeks. Realizing he was probably going to regret saying that later, Dean cleared his throat, “I can be wingman  _here,_  if you still want-”

“Ugh, Dean. What, your sloppy seconds? Think I’ll pass.”

Shrugging, Dean stole Sam’s beer and took a drink. Sam stared him down until he returned it.

“So,” Sam asked, “Who was the unlucky lady tonight?”

Dean glanced around the room, trying to find someone for his cover. His eyes met Jason’s across the room and Jason nodded slightly, smirking, in his direction. Dean turned his head back quickly, hoping Sam didn’t see their exchange.

“Holy. Shit.”

Dean rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes focusing on the blunt pressure as he felt heat creep into his cheeks at his brother’s declaration.

“Holy, shit, Dean. You  _didn’t_?”

Breathing deep, Dean glanced uncomfortably at his brother who was looking in Jason’s direction. Abashed, he looked back to the table. “Let’s get out of here, Sam,” he begged.

“Oh, my god, you did. No,” Sam smiled. “No, no, no. Wait. Was this the first time? Dean, answer me!” His voice was pure amusement, the happiest Dean had heard all day.

Dean wanted to crawl under the table and die. “Shut the hell up, dude.”

“Shit,” Sam breathed, smiling incredulously. “Wow. I’m just kind of… speechless… to be honest.”

“You’re sure talking a hell of a lot for bein’ so damn speechless.”

“Dean, he keeps looking over here. I think he’s jealous,” Sam lifted his eyebrows suggestively. “Am I supposed to go throw a punch at him now? I mean, that’s the protocol, right?”

Squinting his eyes, glaring at Sam, Dean lifted his hand to flip his brother off.

Smiling wide, Sam’s eyes lingered over Jason. He nodded in approval, “He’s hot, Dean. Good job.”

“Oh, my god,” Dean stood up abruptly and stomped out the front door.

When he reached the truck he fumbled around for the keys. Unlocking the door, he crawled in. Slamming it shut behind him, Dean rubbed his hands over his face trying to will away his embarrassment. Maybe if he’d stay in there long enough Dean would sober up and Sam would leave him the hell alone. Dean focused on breathing, knowing that he didn’t have good enough luck, he waited for the inevitable door to open.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam walked over to his father’s truck, heart practically singing as he pulled open the passenger door. With his brother cowering in his hands, Sam offered, “Come on, you big baby. I’ll drive you home.”

“No,” Dean pouted. “Not going anywhere with you.”

Sam laughed as he shut the door. This time he walked around quickly to the other side, trying hard to bite back his smile. Pulling open the driver’s side, Sam said, “Come on, Dean.”

“Fuck you, Sam,” he said without conviction.

“Yeah, well, I think you’ve probably done enough of that for one night, don’t you?” Sam reached in and tugged at his arm.

Dean slowly allowed his brother to pull him out. “Don’t talk about it anymore, Sam,” he begged quietly. “Please?”

Biting his lip, Sam agreed, “Yeah, yeah, okay.” They walked awkwardly to the Impala leaving the truck behind to pick up at a more sober time.

Manhandling his brother, Sam pushed Dean, stumbling into the passenger’s seat of the car. When he got in the driver’s side Sam threw her into gear and drove away from what Dean would probably melodramatically call That Goddamn Motherfuckin’ Bar.

“You didn’t screw her here, did you?” Dean asked.

Scoffing, Sam laughed, “No, dude. Do I need to ask you that about the truck?”

“Ugh, Sam,” Dean rubbed his hands over his face. He was acting like a huge prude which amused Sam to no end. He was used to Dean bragging about his conquests and it was bizarre to see his brother be the conquered for a change. 

“Think he went and told all his friends about screwing the hottest guy in the bar?” Sam teased.

Exasperated and blushing, Dean said loudly, “I  _didn’t_  fuck him, okay?”

“Okay, Dean,” Sam placated. After a long moment, Sam couldn’t help but quietly ask, “So... he fucked  _you?_ ”

“Goddamn it, Sam!”   
  
“Not, gonna lie. That’s kind of hot, Dean.” And it was. He laughed to himself as he thought about it. Christ, Dean bending over for some guy in a bar was enough to fuel quite a few fantasies for Sam. And the fact that Dean had  _actively_  gone after a man at all was inconceivable. This wasn’t just some daydream of Sam’s. His brother had intentionally hooked up with a guy.  
  
“You need to shut the hell up before I kick the shit out of you. I’m not fucking around anymore, Sam. Shut. The hell. Up.” Dean demanded.

“Jesus, Dean, relax,” Sam replied nervously. “I’m just messin’ with you. It’s not that big of deal, christ.”

“It  _is_  that big of deal, Sam! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Sam’s heart dropped as he thought about his brother’s extreme behavior. Quietly, and in a much more sincere and sympathetic tone, Sam asked, “Did something happen, Dean? Did he- He didn’t try to-”

“Jesus!” Dean interrupted. “You better not be asking if he raped me. What the fuck, Sam? No! He sucked me off in the back alley, goddamn it. Just drop it already.”

“Calm down, Dean. With how you’re acting you can’t blame me for thinking somethin' happened.” Sam shook his head, “Look, I’ll drop it. I just don’t get why you’re freaking out.”

Laughing bitterly, Dean said, “I ain’t queer and I’m hooking up with a dude in a bar because I want to screw my underage brother. Exactly which part of this equation don’t you think is somethin’ to freak out about, Sam?”  

His heart racing, Sam inhaled and conceded, “Okay, Dean. I’m sorry.” He gripped the wheel tight and added, “You’re right. It’s not funny. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Dean rubbed his hands over his face and focused on his breathing.

As if sensing his brother formulating a plan, Sam quickly pleaded, “Dean, don’t bolt, okay? Please? I know when this shit happens you wanna run until you cool off but, look, it’s not a big deal to me, okay.”

Dean glared at him.

Hastily he continued, “I don’t mean the  _issue_  isn’t serious! I just mean, who the hell cares if you hooked up with a guy? Don’t feel bad about it, man.”

Dean shook his head and asked quiet and bitterly, “Do I have your permission to feel bad about the incest, Asshole?”

Sam cringed. He knew his brother was trying to provoke him but he wasn’t going to rise to the occasion. Tersely, he replied, “ _No._  You don’t.”

Dean scoffed next to him, “I think Dad would have somethin’ to say about that.”

“Yeah? Well, Dad’s not here and  _he’s_  the asshole that screwed us up like this in the first place.”

“No, Sam,” Dean shook his head. “ _That_  asshole would be me.”

Rolling his eyes, knuckles white on the wheel, Sam replied, “Oh, fuck you, Dean. Have fun playin’ the martyr over there.” He finally pulled into the motel parking lot. As he turned the car off they both sat, immobile.

Taking a deep breath, Sam said calmly, “Look, I just think, don’t feel bad about the guy in the bar. I mean, you had a good time, right? So, just don’t think about it so much. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

Dean shook his head and quietly spoke, “My baby brother is givin’ me advice about my sex life. The world is comin’ to a fuckin’ end.” Sam noticed the bite was now longer in his voice.

“Finally, something I have more experience in. ‘Gay Encounters of the Third Kind.’” He was surprised to hear his brother laugh in the seat next to him. It lightened the mood considerably. “Come on,” Sam urged, forcing him from the car.

After guiding his brother to change and get ready for bed, Sam directed Dean to sleep next to him. He wanted to feel the second he woke incase Dean planned on running after sobering up.

Lying next to him, listening to his brother’s breathing calm and slow, Sam couldn’t help but wonder if Dean had ever done that before with a man. Whispering he asked, “Was he your first, Dean?”

Huffing out a sarcastic laugh, Dean replied, “Pretty sure you know for a  _fact_ that ain’t true.”

Sam blushed in the dark. He had developed a strong ability to separate what he and his brother did with what happened outside of their lives together. Dean never counted and at the same time he counted too damn much. Closing his eyes, focusing his thoughts, Sam replied, “I mean, besides  _that._ ”

He felt Dean sigh next to him before answering tensely, “Yeah, Sam. Just him.”

Sam nodded in the dark even though he knew his brother couldn’t see. “Sorry I ruined it for you, giving you a hard time like that. I didn’t think it was such a big deal to you. Sex never is,” he let his statement hang in the air, strained between them. He wasn’t fishing for Dean’s affirmation, and he regretted the words the second they left his mouth, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s really what it was between them. It used to be. And they used to be okay with it.

“Sam,” he felt Dean’s hand come up and tenderly grasp his arm. Pleading softly he whispered, “You know  _you’re_  different. Don’t make me say it.  _Please,_  don’t make me say it.”

Sam closed his eyes and focused on the tender caresses of his brothers fingers massaging against his skin. He must really be drunk to admit that. Breathing heavily, Sam’s voice scratched, “Yeah, Dean. I know.”

As his brother pulled away his hand, Sam grabbed and settled into his pillow, waiting to find sleep and reprieve from the exhaustion of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Close Encounters of the Third Kind - 1977


	10. Chapter 10

Groaning and stretching his legs, bumping into the firmness of his brother next to him, Dean squinted as he slowly opened his eyes, allowing them time to adjust on Sam.

The stagnant room was dark from heavy curtains pulled closed, but Dean could make out daylight through the cracks. Blinking, he focused his eyes again on Sam who was still face first into his pillow. There was a faint ache in his skull which reminded Dean immediately of the night before. Of Jason. Of the worst thing Dean could imagine; Sam finding out.

The inevitable moment of panic rose to his chest and his breathing began to shallow out. He fought against himself to remain calm. Just as he was about to sit and retreat into the bathroom, he felt a hand grasp onto his bicep. Dean looked to his side to find Sam blinking back at him.

With a sleep worn voice, Sam scratched, “I swear to god, Dean, if you try to leave I’ll slash the tires.”

Dean huffed nervously, “Blasphemy, Sammy.”

“Both cars.”

“Truck’s not here.”   
  
“Smartass,” Sam mumbled.  
  
Closing his eyes, Dean whispered seriously, “I’m not leavin’, okay?”

“Damn right you’re not,” he smirked. “My birthday is in, like, four days and you’re gonna be here for it.”

“That’s right,” Dean sighed. “Turning twelve already, huh?” Dean could feel the bed shake as Sam laughed silently next to him, his light mood helping alleviate some of Dean’s apprehension.

“Better be gettin’ get me somethin’ good,” Sam smirked. “A pony.”

Turning his head, he met his brother’s eyes, “Pony? Think you need a damn Clydesdale.”

“Obviously. The pony is for you,” Sam replied smugly.

“Dick,” Dean smiled kicking weakly at Sam’s shins as he laughed closing his eyes.

“Jerk,” Sam kicked back.

“You’re out of shape, Sam,” Dean chuckled as he forced himself to sit.

Just as he was about to move his feet he felt a strong pull around his waist. Instantly, he was lying on his back looking up to see his brother smiling deviously back down, now on top of him straddling his hips.

“I’m sorry,” Sam gloated, “What was that, Dean? Were you- were you saying someone was out of shape? You should probably work on that.”

Despite his best effort, Dean couldn’t help the smile creeping over his face. He grabbed Sam’s arms in an attempt to pull him off balance. Sam predicted his move, however, and was able to hit his hands away laughing at the foiled attempt to subdue him. Moving his hand, Dean gripped his brother’s wrists tight, struggling with him to move.

“Stop squirming, bitch,” Dean chuckled. Without a second thought, he bucked his hips up into his brother while pulling hard at his wrists to once again attempt to knock him off balance.

Sam fell forward, chest landing over Dean’s face. Dean thrust his hips up again causing Sam’s knees to give as he landed fully on top of him.

Dean closed his eyes and felt instantly when the aura around them changed, tense and nerve wracking. Sam stopped moving above him. Their chests heaved together erratically as adrenaline coursed through Dean. He allowed Sam to shift slightly, giving Dean room to catch his breath. They were both sweating and shaking and Dean realized his body was more than interested in the one on top of him.

Rubbing absently on the inside of Sam’s wrists, Dean breathed deep, blinking open his eyes as he allowed Sam to slide further down. Their noses brushed and Dean could feel how hard and hot his brother was against him. Sam adjusted his hips, pushing into Dean as he bit back a moan.

New Year’s had been the last time he’d gotten to touch his brother like that. Guilt rose in him alongside the pleasure in savoring the moment. Dean blinked up, meeting Sam’s eyes, hooded and dark. Dean knew he didn’t want him to stop.

Trembling, Sam’s body mirrored his, shaking above him as Dean felt short breaths mingle with his own. Sam pulled his head back slightly and searched Dean’s eyes. Dean closed them and nodded, encouraging his brother to do whatever the hell he wanted, just  _do_  something.  _Anything._

He shivered as Sam’s hands moved down, fingers raking through his hair. Goosebumps trickling down his neck and arms, Dean battled with himself as long as he could but gave in to his desire to push his hips back against Sam’s. Then softly, Sam’s lips were on his and Dean fell into him, hungry and desperate.

Bringing his hands to scratch over the back of Sam’s shirt, he found a way to hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. Dean opened his mouth and kissed deeply into Sam’s, eliciting salacious moans only encouraging him to fight for more.

Each time he kissed his brother was more proof why he wasn’t worthy of him. Dean knew he had pushed his luck and once again had been alone with Sam for too long. It broke Dean’s heart how inevitable it felt. He had sworn he wouldn’t do it again. And he meant it. Every time they did, it ended worst than the last and Dean didn’t want to be the one to truly ruin them.

Gathering all his willpower, Dean gently pushed Sam away. With his eyes remaining closed, still shaking under his brother, Dean whispered, “Do you start this shit intentionally, Sam?” He wasn’t angry, he was sincerely curious. And not brave enough to look his brother in the eye.

“No,” Sam breathed above him, weight still heavy and bearing down. Then he continued softly, “I don’t know, Dean. Maybe.”

Dean nodded finally opening his eyes. Sam pushed himself back, climbed off and moved to the side. He laid down next to Dean. Knowing better but doing it anyway, Dean asked, “How far would you go, Sam? If I didn’t stop us.”

Feeling Sam move, Dean looked over to see his brother rubbing absently low on his stomach. He could still see his hard cock tucked in his boxers and he watched as Sam’s fingers grazed over the tip. Biting his lip, Dean couldn’t help but to lower his own hand and hold himself firm, a tight squeezing pressure reminding him how fucked he was.

“You don’t want me to answer that, Dean,” Sam finally confessed.

Squeezing his dick harder, Dean shivered at Sam’s reluctance. “But, now I’m curious, Sammy,” Dean moved his hand underneath the elastic band. He turned his head to see Sam watching him, then Dean closed his eyes in shame.

“I’ve seen you do that a thousand times but I never really appreciated it,” Sam breathed. “God, Dean. I think about  _fucking_  you every damn day.” Bitterly, he added, “ _All_  day.”

Moaning at his confession, Dean admitted, “Never had a guy fuck me before.” He wrapped his fingers firmly around the base of his cock and pulled up, revelling in the tormenting pleasure.

Hearing his brother’s breath hitch, Dean hesitated to open his eyes where he saw Sam’s hand fall into his boxers and pull out his dick, hard and throbbing in his hand. He watched as Sam started to stroke himself. It caused Dean to move his own hand with intent, wishing desperately that he could have his hands on his brother instead.

“Would you let me, Dean?” Sam asked breathlessly.

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean gasped closing his eyes.  _Yes._  He wanted to moan,  _Yes, Sammy. Any goddamn thing you want._ He was terrified at how easy it could become a reality. Sam would do it too. Dean knew he wasn’t lying. He bit his lip hard and focused on Sam’s low, quiet, whimpers. He could tell his brother was close, writhing next to him.

“Dean,” Sam moaned quietly. “The things I want to do to you, Dean.”

“What, Sammy?”

“God, Dean, I wanna hold you face down on the bed. Wanna feel you ride my dick and fuck you into the mattress,” he moaned.   
  
“Jesus,” Dean whimpered.  
  
“I bet you’d be so warm and tight and fuck, Dean, I’ve never done that with anyone but it’s all I can think about with you.”

“Shit,” panting breathlessly, hand pumping his cock, he listened as his brother let his breathy confession slip. Dean wanted it. He wanted it so damn bad, he ached and wondered why the hell hadn’t he considered it before because, christ, his brother was a genius. Through the foggy haze of arousal he knew in that moment he’d let him. Anything he wanted, just as long as Sam’s hands were on him and he didn’t stop. Dean reached his other hand down the base of his cock and rubbed a finger experimentally where Jason had the night before. Listening to Sam panting next to him, Dean couldn’t help but stick a finger inside noticing instantly the heat wrapped around it. He arched his back up slightly as he pushed in further, more than Jason had dared, and on his way to remove it Dean curled his finger just right and  _there_  was the spot. He shook, trembling hard has he rubbed his finger and jacked off his dick.

He came whimpering his brother’s name, Sam not far behind.

They both lay panting together, waiting for their breathing to even out. The familiar abashed pang of regret seeped through Dean’s mind ruining the bliss he’d felt moments before. At face value, what they had just done wasn’t much different than their agreement from New London. It wasn’t the jerking off that caused his strong feelings of remorse. It was kissing and confessing. Dean could put aside getting each other off. He had been comfortable with Sam’s body long before it became an issue. No, it was the intimacy they shared that scared the shit out of him. The strong pull, a heavy gravitation, beckoning Dean closer towards certain destruction. It was no longer simply “getting off” when his heart weighed heavy and all he wanted was to bring his brother close and never stop.

“Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that, Dean,” Sam whispered, breaking the silence and with it Dean’s inner monologue.

Sam was going to graduate soon, then he’d be hunting with them full time. A year of a conflicting emotional battle, four months between giving up the physical aspect of their relationship, and in all that time nothing had changed their situation. No amount of running or distance between them changed the fact that they still ended up there, in bed, moaning each other’s names as they came.

“I am  _so_  sorry. I didn’t-”

“You  _didn’t_   _mean_  it, Sam?” Dean interrupted accusingly.

His heart beat loud and hard as he listened to the silence fester between them.

“Dean,” Sam begged, “Don’t go.  _Please_.”

And he wouldn’t. Running didn’t help. Staying didn’t help. Drinking didn’t help. They were just fucked and there wasn’t anything Dean could do but accept that this miserable existence was now his life.

“Say something,” Sam turned to face him.

Dean continued to stare at the ceiling. “Would you really do it?” He asked, voice tired and drained. His heart began to race waiting for his brother’s answer, not knowing why the hell he asked or which answer was worse. Dean felt the bed shake as Sam turned on his back again to join him in staring at the ceiling.

“No,” he said with conviction.

His chest tightened and stomach knotted. Knowing he’d regret it and against his better judgment, he asked, “Because you don’t  _want_  to or because it’s fucked up?”

Sam cringed. He hesitated, causing Dean to look over to him. His jaw was clenched tight and Dean saw a tear stream from the corner of his eye which made his heart ache and stomach churn more.

“Because,” he replied carefully, “I don’t want you to be even angrier at me.”

Dean’s heart stopped.

“Sam,” he pleaded. Sam turned away from him wiping his face. Dean immediately moved closer, wrapping his arm over Sam’s side he held him in a tight embrace. “I ain’t mad at you, you hear me?” Squeezing, he continued, “I won’t leave, okay.” Putting his forehead against the back of his brother’s shoulder he begged, “You gotta know I ain’t mad at you, Sammy.”

Feeling his brother take a deep breath, Dean listened intently as Sam whispered, “You will be, Dean.”

Losing his grip on his brother, the mattress shifted as Sam stood up and walked away from their bed. Dean watched him retreat into the bathroom. In that moment, the only thing more difficult than dealing with Sam was being alone with his thoughts.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam was losing it.

With only weeks of school left, and mere months before Stanford, the meager amount of self-control he had for his brother was quickly deteriorating. When he discovered Dean deliberately hooked up with a man it was as if the floodgates had burst open. Frantic, carnal thoughts passed through his mind, fantasizing what he might have looked like with the guy. Sam constantly caught himself studying his brother, memorizing the planes of his muscles, wondering just how far Dean would go with a man.

Remiss though it was, Sam had habitually excluded himself from the tally of his brother’s sex life. He laughed bitterly to himself. Brothers didn’t count, right? It had just never occurred to him that Dean may have considered steering away from women after everything between them. That Sam could be that influential.  _Especially_  after Dean’s reaction to Tyler. Sam had honestly been shocked to find evidence to the contrary.

And whether it had been a residual side effect left over from a near wet dream, when Sam woke in bed with his brother next to him the morning after prom, he wanted Dean’s hands all over him. He couldn’t be too surprised when their playful sparring turned into something more amorous. But he had really fucked up by confessing how much he really wanted to use Dean for more obscene purposes.

It terrified him how close they had come to it. He knew if he would have pushed, Dean would have let him. And that scared the hell out of him.

He wanted to. He wanted to _so_  damn much. But Sam wouldn’t be able to live with himself if did that to Dean and then left him. Jesus, he was terrified of what leaving alone would do to his brother, but Sam was still unwilling to throw his life away hunting.

Examining how far he’d come from his heartbreaking realization that their relationship was not convenience based but instead a foundation of legitimate attraction scared the shit out of Sam. When he first recognized it he ran. He ran to Flagstaff and he created the plan to leave John and Dean. And Sam was damn well sticking to that plan.

His mind continue to delude him, however, tricking him into believing that what he and his brother had was okay. A dark part of himself that thought maybe they could try it just once. Go a little farther. They both wanted it, right?

And then the stark realization of just what he was thinking would crash through his thoughts. Fucking his brother. He was trying to convince himself that  _fucking_  his  _brother_  was okay.

Sam knew he was leaving. He  _knew_  it. He wasn’t going to back out of it and adding sex between them was only going to make it that much more difficult when he left.

But it didn’t stop him from fantasizing about it and that would have to be enough.

His birthday passed without incident. Eighteen was a big one. Finally an adult. Finally legal. He wanted to tease his brother about no longer being a lecherous pedophile but he figured Dean would take it to heart, internalizing it into something painful. Sam had been inflicting enough pain on his brother’s life as it was. He didn’t protest celebrating by having a quiet night in renting some movies, adding their own commentary to them.

After prom, things with Rachel fizzled out quickly. Not that she wasn’t tenacious in trying to make something work, but Sam couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when he knew Dean was back at the motel waiting for him. Not knowing that these were the last few days they’d have together.

It was a bitter ending to his time at Belvue. He graduated. Of course John couldn’t make it but Dean did and it meant more to Sam than he had ever expected.

As they packed up their duffels and drove to meet John at Bobby’s, Sam couldn’t help but feel pangs of sadness that this was it. Belvue was the last place he’d stay while in high school.

Sam and Dean had been careful to avoid physical contact since the morning after prom. Both fought hard to pretend things were okay between them.

On the drive to Sioux Falls, Dean was practically singing with joy, “Sammy! You’re finally free. Now we can really kick some monster ass! Watch out things that go bump in the night, The Winchesters are on the prowl.”

Sam couldn’t help but reluctantly flash a sad smile at him as Dean drummed the steering wheel in time with the song. He knew Dean was already planning out their future hunting, not that either of them ever dared to plan too far in advance. But Sam knew how happy the thought of him finally hunting with them full time made his brother.

When he began singing, loud and off key, Sam had to interrupt, “Dean! Dean, Dean. Who sings this song again?”

“Megadeth, bitch!”

“Oh, yeah? How about we keep it that way,” Sam smiled smugly.

Dean’s smile dropped as he deadpanned a glare at Sam. Shaking his head, Dean lifted his hand to flip him off. Sam couldn’t hold back his amused chuckle. “Screw you, Sammy. I have the voice of an angel. I could out sing sirens, man.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I agree. You  _definitely_  could kill people with that voice, Dean.”

Dean punched him hard in the arm and Sam fell into the door laughing.

“Ouch, dick,” he rubbed his arm.

“Asshole,” Dean smirked back. Sam noted that he didn’t continue singing after that, however. “You get a pass. Ain’t going to beat the shit out of you for that one. Call it my graduation present to you.”

Sam scoffed, “You couldn’t if you tried.”

Eyeing him nervously from the side, Sam noticed Dean tense before saying, “Yeah, well, you cheat.”

“What?” Sam protested. “I do  _not_  cheat, Dean! How the hell can you even cheat at that?”

Dean bit his lip and gave Sam a pointed look.

_Oh._

Sam quickly picked up what Dean was implying. He grew tense next to him and looked out the window. Strictly speaking, the last few times they sparred did end up a bit different from how it began. Sam had to concede that he  _was_  probably to blame.

Clearing his throat, Sam quietly claimed, “That’s not cheating, Dean. Just using my strengths to gain the advantage.” He fought to hold back a smile as he turned to face his brother.

Dean’s eyebrows raised, “If  _that’s_  your new tactic, Sam, gotta admit you’re gonna have a hell of a time trying to kill a zombie.” Smiling big, Dean nudged his shoulder, “You’d both be trying to suck face. Be a hell of a thing to see.”

Sam rolled his eyes and continued to look out to window. After a few moments he asked, “So do you know where this next hunt is? Or what it is?”

Dean scratched his head, “Not positive but I know Dad was talking about hitting a place over in Montana. Mutilated livestock.”

Sam nodded considering the hunt before them. Dean continued to drive, speeding down the interstate. They made good time reaching Bobby’s, not that Sam would expect anything different of his brother.

It was awkward for Sam to be back at that house. It was around the same time last year he and Dean stayed while Bobby and John hunted and it was during that time Dean first began to act differently towards him. At least the first he really noticed. He’d never talked to him about what happened  _exactly_  to flip the switch for him. Sam thought back to his own epiphany, the night in the cabin. The night that forever changed how he viewed his brother.

For so long Sam had pushed off any consideration of what the hell was going on with his emotions towards their situation. He was more than terrified of what he’d discover. Simply admitting that he was attracted to Dean in a different way than before was a big enough step and gave him more than enough to mill over. But returning to Bobby’s with Dean forced him to remember everything.

How simple it had been for him before he knew what was going through Dean’s mind. Sitting in the warm car in the junkyard, paging through old  _Playboys_ , Sam hadn’t given a second thought of wanting to get his hands on his brother. It was something he could offer so easily back then. But Dean stopped him. He cut him off entirely, which forced Sam to start analyzing why the hell he was missing it so damn much. At first he just thought it was because he had to jerk off solo but after watching Dean fuck that girl in the Impala with Sam in the back seat with Stephanie, Sam couldn’t get him out of his mind.

Then the night in the cabin happened. Sam still didn’t like thinking about it. It was simultaneously one of the best and worst nights of his life. After having Dean’s mouth on him and kissing his brother like he’d never kissed anyone before, Sam  _had_  to run. He had to once he knew what he really wanted from Dean. Once he knew it wasn’t just convenience that kept him coming back.

And being back at Bobby’s forced all those memories to filter through his mind.

They stayed the night in their shared room, in the small twin beds on either side. Sam couldn’t fall asleep and he knew Dean was wide awake as well.

He heard his brother sigh and Sam couldn’t help but ask softly, “Do you ever think about it?”

“Of what?”

Sam rolled his eyes in the dark, “You  _know_  what, Dean. Don’t play dumb.”

“Maybe I  _am_  dumb, Sam.”

Sam pursed his lips in the dark, too easy of bait to mock him.

He listened to his brother’s breathing increase before he finally heard Dean whisper, “Talking about it ain’t gonna change things.”

“I know.”

“So what the hell are you bringing it up for?”

Sam shook his head and brought his hands over his face. After rubbing his eyes he admitted, “Being back here. I can’t stop thinking about it. About Stephanie and the Impala and, Jesus, Dean. Did you know what you were doing to me in the car? Did you  _know?_ ”

“Sam,” Dean’s voice warned desperately. “Not  _here,_  okay?”

Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Sam closed his eyes, “Yeah, Dean. I know. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to bring it back up.”

Dean scoffed, “Think that’s exactly what you’re doin’, Sammy.”

“It’s just, this is where it all started to go to hell. Right? It was  _here_?” Dean was silent across the room. Sam’s heart began to race faster, “It  _was_  here, right?”

“I dunno,” Dean’s voice weakly confessed, “Might have been Michelle’s.”

“ _What?_ ” Sam demanded. He knew it killed his brother to admit it. “I was in  _Dad’s_   _body!_ ” A sickening thought crossed his mind, “Damn it, Dean, it wasn’t because of  _that_  was it? Shit.” Sam’s heart pounded hard. He sat up, starting to feel sick that Dean might have only felt like this because of some even more twisted shit from the body swap. What was between them was one thing, but fuck, if Dean was admitting John was somehow involved- Sam felt nauseated.

“ _No,_  Sam,” Dean interrupted his thoughts. “No! It wasn’t- It wasn’t Dad’s body or  _you_  in Dad’s body. And it wasn’t Dad in yours. Not like  _that_  anyway! I just- I started to realize how much I missed you. In  _your_  body. It was so weird, Sam. The way he walked was so different and just his face.  _Your_  face. Whatever! Like freakin’ pod people, man. It was  _so_  wrong and I couldn’t do a damn thing to fix it.” Dean’s voice wavered, “I just wanted you back, Sam.”

Sam took a deep breath, calming slightly, “So, wait. Wait. Please, just clarify it one more time, Dean. You didn’t… you and Dad-?”

“Christ, Sam. Don’t even joke about that!  _No!_ ”

Rubbing his eyes, Sam laid back down, “You just scared the shit out of me, man.” Shaking his head, Sam groaned, “Okay, dude, now I’m thinking about it. You. Dad. Ugh, Dean, make it stop!”

“Sam! Shut up! That’s freakin’ sick,” Dean hissed.

Laughing sadly to himself, Sam confessed, “You gotta admit,  _that_  makes all of  _this_  seem a hell of a lot better.”

“I think I puked in my mouth, so, fuck you.”

Sam couldn’t help laughing to himself as he was finally able to fall asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

In June they hunted a chupacabra in Montana followed quickly by a salt-and-burn in Idaho. In July they spent the holiday in Utah. Fucking, Utah. Dean figured Utah had to be the worst state to party in. Not like John let them enjoy the 4th much anyway, which pissed Sam off to no end. He was going stir crazy and had tried to get Dean to sneak out of their motel to find some land to set off fireworks but John caught them and ordered them to stay put. Sam gave him a firm “fuck you” and pulled the “I’m an adult now” card but Dean took him to the side and convinced Sam to stay. Dean thought offering a swim in the motel’s pool was what quickly changed his mind. So staying nearby, they swam, watching fireworks under the stars until well after midnight.

Dean had a difficult time thinking of a more perfect night. His muscles were sore from digging a grave and the water helped alleviate the low burning ache in them. And more importantly, Sam was next to him. While they weren’t alone in the pool, Sam and Dean fought hard, splashing, both determined to dunk each other underwater, laughing at their struggles. Dean caught that familiar look in Sam’s eyes that informed him they were getting a little  _too_ hands on. He knew it was time to cut themselves off from each other and to his surprise Sam silently agreed.

It was late. He knew he should convince his brother to go back to their room but Dean couldn’t bring himself to end it. Especially since the last of the guests left and they finally had the pool to themselves. Technically speaking, it was after closing but they hadn’t been kicked out so, ignoring their pruning fingers, they remained swimming as quietly as they could manage in the deep end. Sam had been so excited to be able to swim in a pool had a depth greater than five feet.

Swimming to the edge, Sam lifted his elbow out, supporting himself as he leaned back and looked at the stars. Between long pauses in the sky, each longer than the last, they watched the remaining fireworks subside.

Dean’s stomach burned at the sight of his brother. It was cliche as hell but, god, under the stars, under the fireworks, Sam lean and wet and sanguine, he was the most perfect thing Dean could ever fathom seeing in that moment. Sam’s eyes were large with a happiness he didn’t much see in his brother and it caused Dean’s heart to swell.

Sam smiled at him, dimples and all. Then he reached out slowly, pulling Dean’s arm towards him. With his blood pumping nervously, Dean allowed Sam to move him closer. He turned him around so Dean’s back was against Sam’s chest and one arm snaked around, holding him close. Dean closed his eyes as he felt his brother’s firm hand hold him against the hard plane of his chest. Breathing slowly, Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as he felt Sam brush his lips against where Dean’s neck met his shoulder. Dean squeezed Sam’s arm that held him close, not sure if he was warning him to stop or begging him to keep going. Sam bit softly, Dean could feel his tongue kitten licking at the tender spot, before kissing chastely one last time. Sam pulled away from him. Dean shivered as the crack of a firework burst violently in the sky above.

Sam didn’t push further, both to Dean’s regret and relief. He just held him there, strong and solid against him, legs brushing and kicking and entwining under the water as they watched the rest of the fireworks.

After another salt-and-burn in Utah they left for Colorado.

Hunting, having his brother at his side, Dean couldn’t imagine a better summer. They had found an equilibrium. They were able to tolerate short touches before one of them would finally break, pulling away, knowing that it would lead to more if they continued.

Neither were overjoyed, but it worked for them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mid-July John sent Sam and Dean to hunt in Colorado. A haunting on the side of the road near a state park. The area had a history of violent murders in July in the 1970s and it was going to be a bitch to find the remains to burn as they had never been found during the investigation. The best Sam and Dean could figure, the spirits were obviously haunting close to their death site and hopefully close to their remains. Every year in July people were run off the road by a bloodied female figure with long hair parted down the middle.When further attempt was made to help, the woman was never found.

Sam was surprised that it had taken John as long as it had to take care of the haunting but apparently sightings had been occurring more frequently most likely because new areas of the state park were beginning construction. Very possibly unsettling the gravesites. Sam just hoped to god that they hadn’t already cemented bones under any foundations.

Being back at a state park with his brother made Sam very uncomfortable and to make matters worse they had to share a tent. Alone. At least in the cabin outside of Flagstaff they had breathing room. In the tent it was hot, suffocatingly so, both in temperature and atmosphere between them. It made Sam irritable and Dean joined in.

Each time he’d bark an order at Dean, Sam would regret it as it would always lead to a fight. By the time he tried to redirect, it was too late. Dean would be in a pissy mood and then neither of them would talk for several hours. Sam always tried to make peace, regretting the fight after he cooled off.

It was terrifying him how fast the summer was passing. He felt like he should be grateful for the quality, isolated time he was given to spend with Dean but it only put him on edge. It had been a while since either one of them had jacked off and Sam could tell it was aggravating Dean as well. Feeling the constant thrum of arousal did nothing to help the stress between them, and Sam was beginning not to care. He began to spend a great deal of time wondering if the last time they had kissed, the morning after prom, if that would be the last time entirely.

For his sanity as well as Dean’s, he hoped so. Or that’s what he told himself. He felt the weighing haze of desolation surround himself more each day. Sam was at constant war with himself to protect his relationship with his brother and alternatively share his life with him. It would strike him in the oddest moments. They were hunting goddamn monsters and Sam couldn’t help but feel some of the euphoria his brother readily shared. With Dean yowling in excitement after a successful hunt, his enthusiasm was infectious. “Graduation Goggles” is what they had been calling it at school. Sam knew that’s all it was. The high of the hunt, with their adrenalin pounding hard, but Sam had to remind himself again why he couldn’t take Dean and fuck him into the ground at the nearest availability. The worst of it all was seeing the way his brother looked at him, knowing he was thinking the same.

Sam almost gave in so many times.

Then on a hunt Dean would pull some bullshit stunt, and yeah, Dean would save the day, but he’d almost lose a goddamn limb and then where the hell would they be? Sam only hoped that Dean would realize the insanity of it too and eventually stop his carelessness. Sam’s anger bubbled and welled just as strong as his adrenaline and lust, and with the battle he was waging between the two he was glad that his more logical mind was prevailing.

Sam was done with the bullshit. He was done with putting his life and limbs literally on the line. So he repeated his mantra. He deserved a chance.  _Dean_  deserved a chance. Sam just hoped once he’d leave for college, Dean would find his own calling. Something safe. He more than deserved it. Life and mankind owed Dean so much more than he received.

By the time they finished the hunt in Colorado it was already the beginning of August. The next hunt was with John so he gave them the set of coordinates for them to step in line and follow like good little soldiers.

It’s not that it was a hard one, some kind of undead, Sam didn’t really care to retain the information, but the magnitude of the hunt is what warranted their assistance. Some idiot kids broke into the local “haunted” house. It wasn’t actually haunted but it  _was_  booby-trapped from the previous owner. The disturbance kicked off a series of events which lead the cemetery behind the backyard of the house to reanimate the corpses. Even though the owners were long since gone, the corpses were sent to guard the house. Problem was they didn’t know which corpses would reanimate, how long the spell would last, or how to stop it.

Night in and night out, the spell would send yet another corpse to guard the house. So John, Sam, and Dean squatted there, sleeping by day, stabbing the undead in their graves by night. It wasn’t a full army and not difficult beyond being tedious, they were only sentinels sent to scare off intruders, but it was still annoying as hell.

As they burned and stabbed their way through August, they were no closer to ending the spell, or curse, or whatever the hell. Sam became increasingly resentful of John.

“Is this what you think it’s going to be like, Dad?” Sam shook his head bitterly while he sharpened his knives on the floor of the dilapidated living room. “The rest of our lives, we’re just gonna march where ever you order us? Do whatever the hell it is you say?”

“Sam,” John warned sitting in the chair next to the dusty kitchen table.

At one time that tone would have been enough to scare Sam into shape but there was nothing John could do to him now. Each day wasting his life in his own stunted limbo ate away at Sam’s patience.

“If you think just because you’re an ‘adult’ now that gives you the right to be disrespectful, Sam, then you better take a closer look at your decisions,” his dad threatened.

Sam huffed a laugh. Standing, brushing his hands on the sides of his pants, he whined, “What are you gonna do, Dad? Huh? Take away my ‘allowance’? No, wait, my credit card? No, I’m sorry, are you going to take away  _Larry Smith’s_  credit card?” Taunting his Dad was a bad move, and he knew better, but John was so damn tyrannical over everything in their goddamn lives and Sam was fed up. His anger and exasperation boiled to an unbearable level. Sam thought of everything over the years, moving and just as they settled in they were moving again, living the eternal nomadic existence of never belonging, never having a home.

Heat as well as indignation rose to his cheeks. Shaking, Sam took a step forward, “You gonna  _ground_  me? Oh wait, I’ve never had friends or anything you could actually  _take away_  from me in the first place. So what is it you’re gonna do? Huh? You gonna throw a punch?”

“Hey! Hey, hey. Stop it,” Just as John stood from the table intent on  _making_  Sam stop, sending his chair screeching across the wooden floor, Dean dashed over to intervene. He put his hand on Sam’s chest as it rose and fell erratically. “Sam, stop it,” he demanded again.

“No, Dean. Sam has somethin’ to say,” John took a step closer eyeing his youngest son.

Sam tried again to move closer but Dean held an arm between them and pushed hard at Sam’s chest to make him stand down, “Sam! Knock it off.”

Being forced to take a step back, Sam finally broke his glare from his father and met his brother’s eyes. Then quickly they darted back to John. Sam was shaking from the adrenaline and his rage, “You don’t even know, do you?”

John walked toward him with Dean still holding his ground between them, “ _What_  don’t I know, Sam?”  
  
Sam shook his head, seething. He didn’t even realize it as he spat, “Just how much you fucked us up.”

“Sam!” Dean barked sharply.

Inhaling deep, Sam looked to Dean who was staring panic stricken back at him. Finally, he couldn’t take it. Sam couldn’t be there anymore. He shook his head and stomped out the front, screen door slamming shut in his wake.

He wasn’t sure how far or how long he walked down the road. He had mere weeks before getting away from his life. He meditated on a chant of  _Soon. Soon. Soon_ while he walked. For a short moment he pondered the logistics of leaving.  _Now._  Tonight. Something in him held him back from planning an immediate move.

Sam reached a gravel road before he heard his brother call after him. For a moment he wasn’t sure if he should stop walking, but for the first time since he stormed out Sam realized what he almost confessed to John.

He froze, heart pounding hard beneath his chest.

Rough callused hands squeezed his shoulder tight and yanked him, demanding he turn.

With eyes wide in shock, Sam surrendered to his brother’s control.

Dean was furious, but behind that Sam could see fear. As he punched Sam in the chest, hard enough to stumble a step but not so hard that he would start a fight, Dean announced, “There better be somethin’ the hell wrong with you, Sam, or so help me god I’ll kick your ass myself.”

“What did you tell him?” Trembling, Sam asked, dreading the answer, “What did he say?  _Shit._  What did he say?” He stammered, running his fingers through his hair, gasping to catch enough oxygen.

Leaning in close, Dean grabbed the collar of Sam’s shirt, “You.  _Ever._  Pull that shit again, Sam, I  _will_  kick the shit out of you, you hear me?”

“Dean,” Sam pleaded. “I- I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t give a fuck ‘bout what you  _‘didn’t mean,’_ ” Dean’s throat bobbed and Sam could see the veins tense in his arms. “Do you  _know_  what the hell you did back there?”

“Dean, I didn’t- I didn’t  _mean_  to say that, okay! I’d  _never_  tell him, you  _know_  that.”

“That’s not what the hell it looked like, Sam,” Dean pushed Sam’s chest hard, letting go of his grip on his collar as he did. “Just what the hell is your problem anyway? You’re getting too old for the tantrums. Me and Dad are  _both_  fed up with your bullshit.”

“I’m sick of being ordered around, Dean,” he pleaded. “Dad just thinks we’re always gonna be here to do whatever the hell he wants. Is that really how you want to live your whole life? ‘Go there. Kill that. By the way, try not to get your neck slit in the process.’  _That_  what you want?”

Dean scoffed, “Stop being a dramatic bitch. You  _know_  why we need to do this, Sam.”

Laughing bitterly, Sam rolled his eyes, “Dean, when was the  _last_  time Dad had a break in the case, huh? You  _really_  think he’s ever gonna find what killed mom?”

Narrowing his eyes, Dean replied threateningly, “You don’t think he can?”

Sam shook his head in desperation, “Whatever it was, it’s gone in the wind, man. But fine. Say he does find it, and we kill it, what the hell then? Dean, I’m not doing this forever, man. You know that, right? Because I’m telling you right now-”

“Yeah, Sam,” Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I heard it all before. Sammy’s gonna quit the biz. Make somethin’ of himself,” he mocked.

In that moment he wanted to tell Dean. Whether it was to shut him down or shut him up he wasn’t sure. He wanted Dean to know that it was already decided and he was leaving in mere weeks. But Sam was a coward and his fear held him back. He couldn’t bring himself to say it and to see his brother’s heart break.

Or run the chance of Dean talking him out of it.

Sam walked over to his brother and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Nudging the side of his head, Sam whispered, “I’m really sorry, Dean.” And he was. He was sorry for the fight and for Dean always being caught in the middle. And he was sorry that soon he’d be gone. But at least then Dean would be free of him. For a moment Sam thought Dean was going to push him away, but he lifted his arms and hugged him back. When he leaned back, Sam looked down at his brother. It was eating away at him that this is how they were spending their last few days together.  _Fighting._  He was so close to leaning in and kissing him but he knew better.

Reluctantly, Sam pulled away. He cleared his throat, “I can’t go back right now.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Big baby. Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish.”

Smiling, he said, “Oh, pretty sure I wouldn’t have a problem finishing it. I was about a second away from throwing a punch.” Biting his lip, Sam asked nervously, “So, what’d you say to him after I left?”

“I told him to go out, get a drink, and I’d bring you back.” Rubbing his forehead, Dean added, “So it’s on me if you don’t come, man.”

“Think that guilt trip will work on me?” Sam smirked.

“Worth a shot,” Dean added smiling back.

After a short moment of silence Sam couldn’t help laughing a little to himself.

Surprised at his change of mood, Dean asked, “What’s so funny?”

Biting back his smile, Sam looked at his brother, eyes darting from Dean’s lips, then eyes, then lips. “You said you wanted me to ‘ _come’_  or  _else_  it would ‘be on you.’” He couldn’t stop his full laugh, “Pretty sure it’s the other way around, dude.”

“Sam!” Dean punched against his chest in surprise. “What are you, twelve?”

“Just lowering my comedic standards, pullin’ a ‘Dean Winchester.’”

“Oh, I got a Dean Winchester you can pull right here,” Sam watched as his brother looked pointedly into his eyes. It was another residual taunt from an earlier time when joking like that was normal. Sam saw the instant Dean’s eyes grew wide with panic and regret for having said it.

Despite himself, his stomach jumped and Sam couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer to him. Knowing he was on his last days with his brother, a large part of himself didn’t want prom morning to be the way they ended. “Uh, Dean,” he spoke softly, “You know I really wouldn’t  _mind_  pullin’ it.”

Swallowing nervously, Dean looked up at him as Sam leaned closer. He closed his eyes as Sam ran his fingers down the side of Dean’s arm. Shaking his head slightly, Dean whispered, “Sam, you gotta stop, man.”

“What if I don’t?” Sam tested looking down. He watched as his brother blinked open his eyes but still he refused to make eye contact. Sam guided his hand to cup the nape of Dean’s neck and then his heart raced as his brother looked at him.

Green eyes large, glinting in the dark, Dean was destroyed. Utterly wrecked. Sam could  _feel_  the anguish radiate, rippling in waves off of his brother. It scared him to see Dean so lost but it was undeniable that it was doing something to his resolve. Dean was helpless and the allure of it was hot as hell in his arms. Dean. So strong and so sure. Dean, who always knew best. Who answered all of Sam’s questions and taught him life’s lessons.  _Dean._  His sole support in their fucked up world, and right now Dean was telling him to stop. He  _told_  him to stop. Sam  _knew_  he should stop.

But the word lost all meaning as Sam leaned down while holding his brother’s head firmly in place, giving him nowhere to run as he kissed him, crushing and bruising. In that moment, claiming him for his own. Dean opened to him at once, his mouth warm and familiar and everything Sam could ever need, panting into his own. Dean kissed him so damn tenderly and all Sam wanted to do was destroy him. A fierce burning consumption that would take them both to Hell and back and if he could be kissing his brother the whole time then Sam couldn’t think of anything better.

Sam felt as Dean’s palms traced over his chest and down to hips. Dean whimpered into his mouth then pushed hard and away from his body, breaking their kiss. Standing in unabashed confusion, Sam opened his eyes to see Dean’s glinting at him, wet, bordering dangerously close to treason.

“ _Look_  where we are, Sam,” his voice broken and quiet, Dean shook his head softly.

“You wanna go somewhere-”

“No,” Dean interrupted firmly, “That’s not-” Clenching his jaw he continued, “How many times, Sam? How many times we gotta go through this?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sam nodded, “Okay.”

Washed over in relief, Dean rubbed his mouth and turned to look in the direction they came. Another nameless residential neighborhood cloaked in the darkness of the night and Sam wanted it to swallow him whole.

“We gotta get back. Dad’s not gonna be much help tonight and we still got corpses to gank.” Dean rubbed his eyes, “You don’t have to but-” he paused shaking his head, “I could use you tonight, man.”

Sam nodded sadly and watched Dean sigh in relief as he waited for Sam to take the first step back towards the house. Sam nudged his shoulder in solidarity as he walked back down the dark road. Back to his life. To the last days.


	11. Chapter 11

Fall was fast approaching and as summer began to fade so too did Dean’s patience. Over the previous weeks his brother had become increasingly more irritable. Bitching. Whining. Annoying the hell out of him. He had expected Sam to drop his attitude after finally breaking the corpse guarding ward at the not-quite-haunted house. He could understand Sam’s frustration on that one. Yeah, living in a condemned house for days on end wasn’t the best way to spend their summer, but it was a job and needed to be done. He was annoyed to find that it only got worse after that.

Sam was constantly picking fights with John over the stupidest shit and Dean was stuck pulling them apart, consoling Sam after each incident. Sam always expected him to take his side but honestly, Dean didn’t see what his brother was bitching about. After Sam’s graduation Dean allowed himself to imagine what the upcoming months would be like. Sam  _finally_ hunting full time. He figured the worst part would be navigating their fucked up relationship but he hadn’t even had time to deal with that between all the refereeing.

And it wasn’t like things on that front were exactly a breeze either. Dean knew the look his brother was increasingly flashing him well and Sam appeared to be more reckless with it. After the exhilaration of a hunt, with their adrenaline pumping and muscles aching, Sam threw considering fixations at him which Dean mostly ignored. Traitorously, Dean’s body revolted against the rational part of his mind and he was powerless to stop the feverish dreams from overcoming him each night.

It all seemed like a slow, boiling culmination toward certain destruction. Like water slowly rising around him and Dean was fighting fiercely to keep above the surface. With each fight between Sam and John, or another knowing look from Sam to Dean, it was all inevitable weight added to his struggle to stay afloat. Sam was constantly spiteful and John commanding his tyrannical reign, Dean couldn’t help but be in a perpetual state of turmoil. They were both taking him down with them and Dean was helpless to stop it.

He knew it was a rising crescendo and all he could do was wait.

Dean wasn’t surprised when it happened. The mother of all arguments, Sam yelling at John, John bellowing back. Dean couldn’t take it between them and he was done trying. He figured if they finally beat it out of each other than maybe it would run free from their systems.

But in the moment following Dean’s resignation, his heart stopped.

“What did you say?” John barked at Sam.

“I’m saying what I’ve  _been_  saying all along if you’d ever listen to me for one goddamn minute! I’m done. I’m leaving. For good this time.”

John laughed and shook his head, “And where exactly are you going? What the hell do you think you’re going to do, Sam?”

Pursing his lips, Sam turned to eye Dean cautiously then glared back to John, “I got accepted into college. Stanford. And I’m going.”

“Like hell you are!”

Blood rushed hard and fierce through Dean’s chest. He couldn’t quite comprehend what his brother was saying. This was like Flagstaff. It was just like Flagstaff. Sam angry and scared and now he was running.

“Sam,” Dean attempted to speak but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

Blinking aback, Dean watched them throw words back and forth not comprehending what was happening between them. He was petrified as he saw Sam wave papers, some kind of  _proof_  of his leaving.

Sam was leaving.

Sam was leaving  _him._

Before Dean could speak, before he could react, Sam had his bag slung over his shoulder as he took a step towards the door.

Dean was nearly about man the hell up and say something, demand that Sam stop, when John’s voice boomed over them all, “If you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back!”

Those were the words that sealed their fate.

The words that drove his brother from the door and with it, their lives.

And Dean couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. In that moment he lost everything. The only thing that mattered. And he couldn’t take it. True to being a Winchester, Dean bolted. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Sam left but Dean slammed himself into the Impala and took off searching for his brother.

It  _couldn’t_  be true. Dean couldn’t believe it. It was just some attempt to distance John further. To piss him off. A shock tactic to get his attention that he wasn’t happy about hunting.

Sam would be back. He  _always_  came back.

When he finally tracked him down the sun was setting and Sam was walking towards the interior part of downtown. Dean wasn’t even sure where they hell they were. Franklin? Freemont? It didn’t matter.

Dean found him.

He called him to the car and somehow convinced him to come over.

“I am not in the mood to deal with any of your bullshit, Dean, so you either take me to a different motel or I’m walking.”

Blinking aback, Dean silently agreed.

He followed every instruction Sam gave him unquestioningly and when he parked in a cheap motel lot he trailed behind him as his brother checked into a room.

Sam dropped his duffel hard on the floor and fell back into the bed.

Finally feeling confident that his voice had returned, Dean asked, “It’s not true is it?”

Dean watched as his brother rubbed his hand over his eyes and sighed. He sat back up and gave Dean the most mournful look he’d seen on his brother.

“Yeah, Dean,” his voice was tired. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Shaking his head disbelieving, Dean swallowed the lump in his throat to ask, “So you were  just gonna leave like this? You weren’t gonna say anything to me unless I chased you down like a psycho?”

Sam stood from the bed and walked over. “No, Dean!” He held out his hands, attempting to grab Dean’s arms, but thinking twice he drew them back quickly. “You know how he pisses me off! I would have called before-”

_“Called?”_  Dean huffed incredulously. He felt the familiar sting behind his eyes. Warm, burning hot and threatening to break free so something of Dean wasn’t suffocating anymore. Hitching a deep breath, he asked, “ _That’s_  how you’d-?” He shook his head when he felt a warm tear trail over his cheek.

“Dean,” Sam pleaded. He finally reached out and put his hands on Dean’s shoulder.

Instantly recoiling, shrugging him off Dean turned away and walked towards the door. He stopped, breathing heavy and uneven, then turned around. He asked quietly, “Is it because of me?” Timid and heartbroken and afraid of the answer he was undoubtedly going to get.

“No, Dean!” Sam stepped closer but did not reach for him. “But…  _yes,_ ” shaking his head, Sam admitted.

He could no long hold the tears threatening to fall, not that it mattered anyway. Nothing mattered. Dean had fucked up their lives and now the only thing he had to live for was walking away.

Seeing Dean’s response, Sam quickly added, “But,  _not_  like that, Dean, okay? You have to understand, it’s not  _you_.” His eyes were bloodshot as he shook his head. Dean recognized the welling of tears in his brother’s words as he confessed quietly, “I’m so fucked up, Dean, and I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” His breath hitched, “I  _need_ to do it.” He stepped closer and this time Dean allowed it when his brother tenderly placed his hands on his arms. A stabilizing reminder that Sam was really there and that conversation was actually happening.

“ _This_  isn’t okay,” Sam’s own tears fell freely, streaming thin tracks down his cheeks. “What’s between us. It’s not okay. You  _know_ it, that’s why you always stop me. You’re so much stronger than me, Dean.” Sam shook his head, “I  _need_  a life. A  _real_  life, Dean. I can’t keep doing this. You don’t know how this feels.”

Dean scoffed and tried to turn away, “Think I got a damn good idea.”

“No,” Sam moved his hand to rub the wetness from Dean’s cheek with his thumb. “Not  _that._  The hunting. I-” He shook his head unable to finish his sentence. “I’ve always hated it. It’s not fair that he expects me to throw everything away-” Sam trailed off, “And there are just a thousand reasons-”

“When?” Dean interrupted.

Sighing, he replied, “Early tomorrow, the bus leaves.”

Shaking his head, reeling like he took a punch, Dean nodded mournfully. He again tried to move but Sam wouldn’t allow it. Instead he pulled him close, embracing his arms around Dean, a small hug that was a pathetic imitation of compassion. Despite himself, Dean’s breath shook unevenly as he inhaled the familiar scent of his brother and grasped tight at the back of Sam’s shirt, pulling him in, holding him close.

“It’s not forever, Dean. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. I’m not going off the map. You’ll come visit, okay? When you have a hunt in California,” he rambled on, almost convincing himself.

Dean had difficulty comprehending the words. “Visit?” Dean croaked weakly. All he knew was that his brother was leaving and it was because of him. It was because Dean had fucked him up in the worst way possible, and living the way they did, that was saying something. Touching him and pushing Sam to do things that he only  _thinks_  he wanted all because of what Dean did to him.

Dean knew it was right for Sam to go. He  _had_ to. He had to get away from the toxicity of everything comprised of ‘Dean Winchester’. So he nodded reluctantly, “Yeah, Sam. I get it.”

“You do?” Sam pulled his head away and looked tearfully into Dean’s eyes.

Closing his eyes and swallowing the lump in his throat, Dean nodded painfully.

Sam grasped him close again, “God, Dean, I’m gonna miss you so damn much.”

Dean shivered as he felt Sam’s hand run up his back and hold him firmly at the nape of his neck. He closed his eyes.

“You’re the only good thing,” Sam mumbled, his nose brushing against Dean’s ear. “The only good thing in my whole fuckin’ life.”

Dean pushed him away and inhaled, “I can’t believe this is your last night.” Shaking his head he added, “Do you want me to leave?”

Dean couldn’t help but be bitter about the question. How many times had he asked and Sam always answered, ‘no.’ Apparently, Sam was the one leaving all along. And Sam knew it. For the last year, or who the hell knows how long, Sam had been planning and counting down the days. Dean suddenly realized all the countless remarks his brother made to him about not wanting Dean to be angry or mad at him was because of this.

“No, Dean,” Sam replied sadly. “Stay tonight. Please?”

Inhaling, breath hitching, Dean tried to joke, “I’m gonna need a hell of a lot more alcohol in me to make it through tonight.”

Sam laughed sadly, “Yeah, Dean. Let’s send me off right.”

In his lethargic cloud, Dean followed Sam out the door, even handing over his keys. He figured, why the hell not, Sam wouldn’t get to drive her anymore anyway. One last time.

Sam gave him a small sad smile and drove them to the nearest liquor store.

They didn’t talk but they both stayed close. Sam brushed against his shoulder the whole trip and Dean couldn’t stop himself from leaning into him.

Somehow they made it back. He wasn’t completely sure what they’d gotten but hoped to hell that it included whiskey. Grabbing the bag away from his brother, Dean sat on the bed still stunned.

There weren’t many things that could do it but knowing his brother would no longer be with him was more than enough to overwhelm him. Opening the bag he was relieved to find that, yes, they had remembered the whiskey.

Sam walked over and sat next to him jarring Dean slightly as he threw back a drink directly from the bottle. He handed it over to Sam who did the same then returned it to Dean. After passing it back and forth wordlessly for how long he wasn’t sure, Dean could finally start to feel the buzz settle in. He turned, daring to look at his brother.

Sam’s cheeks had dried tear marks streaking down them. Dean’s stomach knotted when his brother lifted his eyes to meet his.

Dean didn’t know what the hell he was doing there in that motel with his brother. Sam didn’t want him in his life or he wouldn’t be moving to the end of the country. Swallowing back the burning lump in his throat, Dean was powerless against the gravitation he felt pulling him towards Sam. He knew the inevitability of what he had been fighting so hard was finally coming to a head. In his weakened state he was finally ready to give in.

Sam met him halfway, lips and teeth colliding hard, bruising his lips until he could taste blood mixed with alcohol and not enough Sam. Never enough Sam.

He felt as his brother’s palms squeezed tight against his arm and shoulder and finally to the back of his neck, holding Dean in place, like there was any other place he’d rather be. Shivering as Sam bit against his bottom lip, Dean moaned into his mouth no longer remembering why it was a bad idea. It didn’t matter anymore. Sam was leaving and this was his last chance. It was sick and twisted and it was the reason his brother deserved a life far the hell away from him, but Dean wanted it so goddamn much. He just didn’t care anymore.

Letting his brother push him back into the mattress, Dean sighed into his mouth and moaned around his tongue as he tried to unzip his jeans and slide out of them. Sam followed and soon he could feel the hard length of Sam against his own.

Pounding heart, his mind was stuck on a loop of how fucking good it was to have his brother on top of him. Dean trembled as Sam’s lips moved to his neck. His teeth scraped against his skin. He couldn’t do anything to combat against his brother mauling him. Dean was so damn drained but his blood raged hard and fast, and so help him god, he didn’t want Sam to stop. He shook as Sam’s teeth traced down his neck sucking painful bruises. Dean listened to him whisper incoherent murmurs against his skin.

“Just this once, Dean, please,” he begged. “Just this once,” Sam kissed him hard against his lips and Dean trembled weakly returning the kiss as his adrenaline rushed in his veins.

He was losing Sammy.

This would be their last night together.

Dean was a selfish bastard and in that moment he was prepared surrender to any damn thing his brother wanted.

Squeezing his eyes tight, Dean breathed, panting hard into his mouth “Yeah, anything Sammy.”

His brother froze.

Dean’s heart palpitated dangerously under his chest as he waited for Sam. His brother pulled away from him and for an appalling moment he thought he was going to stop. But Sam instead quickly pulled at Dean’s shirt, lifting frantically, tearing threads as it was pulled over his head. And Sam did the same for his own. Now only in boxers, before either of them could regret what they were doing, Dean leaned back on the bed and pulled Sam over him, colliding their swollen lips once more.

Sam trembled as he breathed heavy against his brother’s mouth. Voice dripping heavy with lust, he spoke soft against his lips, “God, Dean, the things I wanna do to you.”

With eyes wide full of fear and sorrow and lust, Dean looked up at his brother’s dark, heavy lidded eyes, “Do  _it,_ ” he whispered softly, “Fuck me, Sammy.”

Sam froze, breathing hard over Dean, both listening to the sound of their racing hearts pounding in their ears.

“Sam?” He asked nervously.

“Dean,” his brother pleaded. “You don’t really-”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, “I do.” Dean could feel him, strong against his body, skin wet with sweat. Bucking his hips up slightly, Dean whined, “So fuckin’ much, Sammy.”

Sam pulled away but continued to stare, blinking down at his brother.

“You wanna, right?” Dean asked biting back his growing fear.

Shaking his head, tears welling to the surface, Sam looked away from Dean, “It won’t change anything, Dean. I-”

Dean sat up watching as his brother’s throat bobbed, “You  _want_  to, though, right?”

Finally allowing tears to fall, Sam turned back, “ _Not_  like this, Dean. Not with you trying-” his breath hitched, “If we do, if we  _did_ \- I’m still leaving. It’s not gonna change that.”

Suddenly Dean realized what his brother meant. “No, hey, Sam.” Dean moved closer, kissing Sam slowly, reassuring, drawing his tongue into his mouth to taste him softly. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against his brothers, “I want it, Sam. I want it so  _damn_  bad. I ain’t sayin’ it to try and keep you here.”

Dean watched nervously as his brother looked deep into him, trying to find the truth.

Shaking his head, Dean quickly said, “Sammy, if you don’t want to- I’m not tryin’ to force you here. God, just tell me and we can stop. That’s the last-”

He was interrupted by Sam’s lips shutting him up. Dean felt hands holding his hips firm and Sam’s cock pushing hard against his own. Then the pressure was gone. Sam pulled away and moved to the far end of the bed. Dean had a brief moment of panic jolt through him before he watched his brother dig into his duffel bag and throw a bottle at him. Dean caught it and laughed sadly to himself as he read ‘personal lubricant’ on the label.

Sam turned around nervously and held up a condom, unsure, “Do we-”

“No,” Dean said quickly. “Not unless you-”

Returning his lips to Dean’s, Sam nipped at him and whispered playful, “Probably should. You’re kind of a slut, Dean.”

Dean smirked, licking into his brother’s mouth, “Fuck you.”

“Christ,” Sam moaned against him, “I’m trying already.”

Smiling against his brother’s teeth, Dean said quietly, “You’re poppin’ my ass cherry here anyway, Sammy.”

“Oh, fuck, Dean,” Sam whined against him. “Can’t say stuff like that.”

“Like, hurry the fuck up and ram your fat cock into my virgin ass because I’m waiting for you here, Sammy, and christ knows I ain’t a patient man.”

Shivering, Sam pushed his lips hard into Dean’s, “Goddamn it, Dean.” He pulled away and quickly tugged at his brother’s boxers.

Dean pulled against Sam’s trying to undress them both as quickly as he could. He’d had enough of the teasing bullshit and just wanted his brother to fuck him already.

He had seen his brother naked plenty of times over the years, and hell, he’d had his brother’s dick in both his hands and his mouth, but to see Sam leaning back, entirely naked, with his soft smooth skin and cock jutting out, red, and hard, and hot, Dean couldn’t help but grab tight at his own dick to soothe the twitch in his palm. Dean sat up and pulled his brother back down to the bed, trading places, making Sam lie on his back.

Kissing softly against his lips, Dean moved slowly to Sam’s neck. He bit and sucked hard where his neck met his shoulder, wanting to give his brother proof when he left that, yes, this did fucking happen, you can’t fucking deny it. Sam writhed underneath him as Dean’s hands roamed down the soft thin plane of his stomach. Finding their destination, he wrapped firm around his brother’s dick, throbbing heat stiff in his hand. Sam cried out quietly and Dean quickly lost interest in his brother’s neck. He licked and bit and nipped at Sam’s nipple then traveled lower to trace his tongue around the head of his cock, leaking at the tip, savoring the taste.

Sam trembled underneath, whimpering through heavy lidded eyes. Dean caught his brother’s eyes then bobbed his mouth down around his dick. Humming around his cock, Dean’s stomach jumped as Sam thrust shallowly into his mouth. It was so fucking good and this was going to be the last time, the  _only_  time, Dean would have this in his life again.

He pushed the thought out of his mind as Sam’s hand reached to cup the side of his head, “Fuck, Dean. You-” he thrust slightly, “You gotta stop if you want me to fuck you.”

Reluctantly, Dean moved his head away, giving one last lick to the tip as he went. Sam sat up and kissed him hard on his swollen mouth, tongue invading to try and taste himself in his brother’s tongue. Sam moved away and breathed through closed eyes, “So, how d’you wanna-?”

Dean kissed him chastely, then pulled him up to change positions. Adjusting himself on the bed, Dean grabbed the lube, with Sam enthralled in rapt attention. Flipping the cap open he squeezed some into his hands and allowed it time to warm. Dean watched his brother, eyes wide and turned on as hell, Dean he reached his hand down and started rubbing his finger against his ass carefully.

Since the night with Jason, Dean had tried it out more than a few times on his own, each time imagining it was Sam. Opening his legs wide, Dean’s breathing hitched as he pushed a finger into himself like he’d practiced.

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam watched breathlessly staring.

Dean bit his lip and watched Sam as he absently stroked himself, eyes never leaving the movement of his ass as Dean worked through the burning, stretching feeling and into something more pleasurable.

Quickly, Sam moved his hands from himself to Dean’s dick instead. Dean barely had a chance to realized what had happened by the time Sam’s mouth was covering the tip of his cock. Dean was helpless as he rubbed hard inside himself and thrust up into his brother’s mouth.

“Jesus, fuck, Sam.”

Through his distraction, Dean hadn’t seen his brother get lube on his own hand and was surprised to feel Sam batting his hand away. Mourning the loss, Dean pouted until he felt Sam rub tenderly around his hole before slipping two fingers inside. His eyes rolled back, dark and unaware that he was shifting his hips down, helping fuck himself on his brother’s fingers, doing nothing to ease the burn and hoping desperately the dull ache would last for days.

Sam leaned down and Dean nearly lost it when he felt his brother lick the length of his shaft and suck tenderly at his weeping tip. His brother. His fucking baby brother.  _Sammy,_  was doing that to him and he couldn’t remember any goddamn thing feeling better than it. His stomach clenched and released and his skin vibrated when he felt Sam add another finger.

Dean began to tremble under him and he quickly moved his hand to Sam’s cheek, “Hey, hey. Sam. You gotta- I’m gonna fuckin’ come man, you gotta stop. Just fucking give me your dick already, christ.”

Sam pulled off his cock, Dean held his breath trying not to lose it. Running his hands down the sides of Dean’s hips, Sam lined himself up. Dean could feel the blunt pressure of the head of his cock push gently against his hole. He didn’t know how the hell it was going to fit. He hadn’t quite paid attention, or maybe Sam was still growing, but fuck it felt huge and it wasn’t even in yet.

Sam grabbed more lube and slicked himself up. Relaxing his hips, Dean arched his back as he felt his brother push slowly inside. He was so goddamn warm, hard, throbbing in at the tip, and Dean felt sweat run down his forehead as the burning sensation grew with each new little push in.

Sweating and shaking, Sam looked down to see where their bodies met. “God, Dean, you’re so fuckin’ hot like this, Jesus. Can’t believe you’re letting me. Fuck. Why weren’t we always doing this?”

Slowly, his brother continued to sink into him, bigger and deeper than anything he’d felt in him before. He was suddenly very thankful for the experience with Jason because he couldn’t imagine doing it for the first time with Sam’s dick. Dean forced himself to relax as his brother finally sank into him completely.

With his arms braced next to him, Sam slowly lowered himself onto Dean. Stomach touching stomach with Dean’s cock trapped between, breathing hard and uneven, Sam brought his mouth down to cover Dean’s.

The moment was so surreal to him, his brother’s cock hard in his ass as he was licking into his mouth, tongue tenderly caressing along with his hands rubbing, soothing his arms. Feeling more comfortable with the pressure inside of him, Dean tried to shift against him, to take in more.

Sam smiled into their kissed, “Jesus, Dean. You don’t know how good this feels.”

Dean laughed softly, “Got my dick wet before, Sam. Might have an idea.” As Sam laughed, Dean felt it vibrate through his body, “Fuck, Sammy, you gotta move. I’m goin’ crazy here.” He pushed again against his brother.

Sam inhaled sharply, “Damn it, okay. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dean scoffed and thrust up harder against his brother, “Not gonna break me, bitch.”

“Shit,” Sam swore he pulling himself back and slowly pushed into Dean. “Not the bitch,” Sam moaned, “Not the one with a dick up my ass.”

“Then fuck me like you mean it,” Dean breathed, snaking his arms around Sam’s sides, scratching red lines down his back.

His heart was pounding hard. Dean dared to open his eyes. The look his brother gave him made his heart stop and stomach jump. Sam looked at him so tenderly and affectionately. Dean blinked up at him, savoring the moment, the feeling of his brother throbbing hot inside him. Sam kissed him gently before pulling back his hips then quickly thrust back into him.

Dean closed his eyes and smiled, “Fuck, yeah, Sam. Do that again.” Dean reached his hand down to his cock and started stroking himself, rubbing his thumb under the tip.

Sam pulled out and drove back in, moaning as his pace began to increase. Dean grasped against Sam’s back, dampened from sweat, to pull him closer. He couldn’t get Sam close enough. He couldn’t get him to stay.

Each increasing thrust was another moment closer to his brother leaving him. It felt so damn good, and it burned so fucking hard. Dean trembled as Sam’s arms wrapped around him, holding him tight, both trembling from something undeniably intimate. Both not wanting it to end.

Sam crushed his lips hard against Dean’s as his hips pistoned erratically close to release. Dean lifted his leg and pulled his brother into him deep, meeting him with his own thrust. His stomach flexed and released, tense with each push.

He felt as Sam pulled away from his mouth and with shallow thrusts his brother came inside him, whimpering his name into his mouth.

Dean could no longer hold on. He bucked up into his hand feeling the familiar wave, tingling deep, electric current vibration through his veins, coming into his hand as his brother’s cock softened in his ass.

As he slowly tried to remember just how he and Sam had gotten to that point, fighting any rational thought that started to shift into his brain, Dean shifted under his brother. Sam was breathing shallowly above him, looking down, deep into his eyes. He came down slowly and one last time he met Dean’s lips with his own before pulling himself out, wincing.

Sam rolled to the side and joined Dean in staring quietly at the water stained ceiling.

Dean knew he should get up. He was fucking disgusting and needed a shower but that would be time away from Sam and he’d have plenty of that soon enough. The alcohol was still thrumming through his veins. At any moment he would feel regret and the gravity of the situation eat away at him. He pushed it aside the best he could manage. Instead what hit him was how soon Sam would be gone. It really was their last night together and it made Dean’s heart race and chest tighten for a different reason. Rolling to face his brother, Dean wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close, not giving a damn what his brother thought about the possessiveness of it.

To his relief, Sam lifted his arm around Dean and pulled him close. His brother sighed, “Damn.”

Dean squeezed tight, trying hard not to let any tears break through. “You can just leave a twenty on the table on your way out,” a mistimed joke to ease his discomfort was the best Dean could manage.

Sam scoffed.

Dean squeezed his hip, “That supposed to mean I ain’t worth a twenty?”

Pulling him closer, Sam replied, “You’re worth a hell of a lot more than that, Dean.”

He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds to his brother breathing. Dean was tired. Mind throbbingly exhausted. It had easily been the worst day of his life in recent years. He was  _beyond_  exhausted and even though he tried to fight it, wanting only to spend every last minute he could with his brother, in the comfort of his arms Dean reluctantly let himself slip away from Sam and into sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

It killed him to do it but Sam was a fucking coward and mere hours after Dean fell asleep in the bed next to him, Sam pulled himself from the warmth of his brother and crept away from the motel. He left that damned room and while it was still dark he walked to the bus station alone. His duffel and conscience both weighing heavy on his shoulder. Sam was tired as hell. Not only exhaustion from getting no sleep but deep in his bones. A culmination of his whole life resulting in the events from the whole fucking night.

Before he even told him, he knew John wasn’t going to be happy. He expected it. However, Sam didn’t quite grasp the extent of his anger until he showed his dad the acceptance papers. When John kicked him out, once and for all, he felt like an idiot to find himself surprised. But fuck it. His dad wanted him gone? Sam didn’t have one damn problem never looking back. Not at John, anyway.

But Dean-

Sam didn’t even remember storming out on them. He didn’t remember walking away grabbing his bag or how he ended up downtown. His mind didn’t clear until the second Dean pulled up next to him in the Impala.

_Dean._

What the hell could he say to his brother? Sam had been trying to figure that out for the past year and he still hadn’t gotten a damn bit closer to an answer. There wasn’t one. But he hadn’t meant to flee in anger without talking to him so he was relieved when Dean tracked him down.

And shit, where the rest of the night lead, Sam would be lying if he said he hadn’t wished for it. It wasn’t even kept deep down where the hell it should have been buried. He knew he was leaving and he knew if it didn’t happen then it wouldn’t at all. And, Jesus, escaping their fucked up relationship had been a substantial part of the reason to leave but Sam was so goddamn weak when it came to his brother. In that moment, on that night, guilt and anger and shame be damned.

He knew it was only going to fuck Dean up more. He  _knew_  it and he still went through with it and it was the best damn night of his life. Sam  _did_  feel bad about hurting Dean, but fuck the guilt for what they’d done. He didn’t have a second thought or regret about the act itself.

When he snuck out of the last motel room they’d share together, he  _was_  a fucking coward for not facing his brother. For not saying goodbye. But after _that,_ what could he possibly say to him? There were no words to compete with what they’d done. Thanks for the fuck? I’ll miss you? I’m sorry? Nothing could express what that night meant to Sam, or what it meant knowing that Dean would no longer be in his life like he always had been. There was simply nothing he could say.

So he left.

Sam walked alone in the dark, exhausted and exhilarated. He was finally getting away from hunting. He was finally a step closer to a safe happy life. And if he pushed all thoughts of Dean aside, he could will himself not to feel bad for leaving. Dean deserved so much better and now with Sam gone,  _he’d_  have a chance too.

As he waited for the bus he half expected the roar of the Impala’s engine to pur impatiently, demanding he stay. But Dean didn’t show. The Impala was long gone as the bus finally pulled away and headed towards a warmer climate.

Sam kept repeating to himself,  _This is what I wanted. This is what’s best for me. This is what’s best for Dean._  It didn’t do much to soothe him but it was too late for that anyway.

With his forehead propped against the cool glass, he watched the wrong side of the sunrise, and for the first time his anguish was not directed at John for making him hunt. Or Dean for always taking his side. This sunrise was different, though he  _had_  started it wrong. Par for the course for a Winchester. This sunrise was due to  _his_ choices and with it came a driving force of a new beginning.

Having already memorized the most important phone numbers, Dean and Bobby’s, Sam flipped open his cell, only briefly hesitating before snapping it in half. Sam ripped at the hinge and ignored the pangs in his heart as he quickly shoved his destroyed phone into his bag.

If he was doing it,  _really_  moving on with his life, he was going to do it right. He owed it to himself to try.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

For the first few months Sam was damn proud of himself.

Having never belonged anywhere he was surprised he was able to fall into a routine as quickly as he did. And, while more than a few classmates had difficulty adjusting to life away from home, Sam found he actually thrived. His entire upbringing prepared him to cope with it and for the first time in his life he wasn’t the only new kid.

His first few months he focused mostly on school but picked up part time jobs on the side. He made a few good friends and on the rare occasion he even went to parties.

Sam was damn proud of how well he was able to play at being normal. So well that it wasn’t playing any longer. Normal was becoming his life.

Until the nights rolled around. Until some stupid monster movie was on TV and it reminded him of Dean. Until a holiday passed and he’d remember exactly where he was with his brother the year before.

Sam was in constant battle with himself, wanting to call Dean but not wanting to make things worse. His heart ached thinking back to the night he didn’t say goodbye. He fucked his brother and left. Sam didn’t even say goodbye. Even if he wanted to contact him, he wasn’t sure Dean would speak to him. Sam didn’t even know what the hell he would say, he only wanted to hear his voice. Hear his laugh through the phone. He’d never tell a soul but he missed the way Dean called him “Sammy”.

When Thanksgiving crept upon him and the campus emptied out Sam made a hasty call to Bobby. Hearing friends talk about their holiday plans with family made Sam’s chest ache. He yearned to feel some familial connection even though he’d never really celebrated it much in the past.  
  
The phone rang like gun shots in his ear before Bobby answered, “Singer Auto.”

The familiar voice threw Sam off guard. His heart swelled hearing the voice of the man who treated him more like a son than his own father.

“Hello?”

Sam cleared his throat, “Hey, Bobby.”

“Who is this?”

“It’s me. It’s Sam,” he shook his head to himself.

“Sam?” Bobby breathed. “About damn time I hear from you! Help a kid get into college and he don’t even write.”

“I’m sorry about that Bobby, it’s just-”

“Hey, kid. No need to explain. I got the highlights along the way. It sounded like you got a rough shake of it.”

Swallowing nervously, Sam asked, “How are they? How’s-” He paused, unable to say his brother’s name. “How are they?” Sam heard Bobby sigh through the line which made his stomach knot.

“They’re okay, Sam.”

“Just ‘okay’?”

There was a pause before Bobby confirmed, “Yeah.”

“Did something happen?” Sam asked rushed.

“No, it ain’t like that. Just a bit rough on them is all. They miss you.”

Sam snorted, “I find that hard to believe.”  
  
“Well, strictly speaking, me and your dad ain’t talkin’ much right now. And by way of that I haven’t heard much from Dean.”

His heart raced hearing Bobby mention his brother. “But he’s okay?”

“He’s drinkin’ a lot. He’d skin me for sayin’ so.” Bobby paused, “They’re safe, Sam. And I tell you what, Dean’s gonna be a hell of lot better knowin’ you called.”

“Bobby, please don’t tell him,” Sam begged.

“No can do, Sam. Look, I helped you get there, and now you’re there, but I already promised Dean I’d tell him first thing I heard from you. He deserves to know. He’s worried about you.”

Sam breathed heavy against the line, “Yeah, okay. I get it.” He hesitated before adding, “I just don’t want to make it worse, you know? I just don’t-” Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, working hard to maintain an even voice.

“Sam,” Bobby replied softly, “He just wants to hear from you is all. Know you’re safe.”

“Yeah, okay Bobby.”

“If you have a number, I could-”

“No!” Sam interrupted quickly. No matter how much he wanted to hear his brother’s voice, the idea of actually talking to Dean set him into panic. “No, I don’t really have a number, and I really don’t-”

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” Bobby sighed, “I can give you his if you want. He’s got a couple these days.”

Despite his better judgement, Sam wrote down the number Bobby gave him. They made small talk but Sam was desperate to talk about Dean. He wasn’t able to bring him up again.

When he ended the call, Sam sat holding the paper with Dean’s number between his fingers. He stared at it intently before finally pulling open a desk drawer and tucking it in, as if not seeing it would be enough to wipe the memory of actually having it.

For Christmas, Sam bought himself a new cell phone.

For New Years, he clutched onto it in his pocket, pathetically holding onto the memories from the previous year. His fingers itched to dial. To text. Anything just to get word from Dean.

At the end of January he finally caved.

_SW 1:54 AM: Happy birthday, Dean._

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Happy birthday, Dean._

He knew immediately who the text from the unrecognizable number was from. A few hours into his birthday and Sam contacted him. Dean hadn’t expected it. He wasn’t expected much of anything these days. He threw himself into the bottle waiting for each day to end so he could pass the hell out, only to wake too soon and do it all over again.

A few months back, Bobby told him he’d heard from Sam and it was like his heart broke and sewed itself back together in a pathetic mockery of it’s old self. It had only been a few months but that was a damn long time when he knew it wasn’t temporary.   
  
Getting a text from him made Dean feel like it was a mere reprieve.

His stomach jumped and eyes blinked, focusing intently on the blurred dancing words illuminated in front of him.

Dean was drunk. He stared at his phone intently in the dark of the motel room he currently shared with John. He couldn’t help but to laugh at himself, thinking that it must have been some alcohol fueled hallucination. Pushing the text from the farthest corners of his mind, Dean turned his phone off and prayed he’d pass the hell out. And thank Dionysus, he did just that.

Not giving a shit about his brother was by far the most difficult thing Dean had to learn out how to do. When he woke the day Sam left, head splitting from a hangover, Dean knew before even opening his eyes that Sam was gone.

He had finally done the unforgivable and Dean couldn’t blame him one damn bit for taking off without a word of goodbye. Dean Winchester, the brother fucker, had no right being upset about Sam’s absence. He felt more than partially relieved that Sam was able to get away from him. With Sam gone, Dean couldn’t warp and twist and twine his mind into something as abhorrent as Dean’s. He was glad, truthfully, that Sam was strong enough to leave.

It didn’t stop his heart from burning with a dull empty ache. Or his stomach from reeling, and churning, and winding tight into knots as he thought about  _that_  night. And it sure as hell didn’t stop him from wallowing in a bottle and dwelling in his remorse every fucking night. And every night he told himself,  _Yeah. Sammy’s out. Now I can’t hurt him anymore._

Dean didn’t know when the hell it happened so he simply stopped trying to figure it out. It wouldn’t matter anyway, knowing the moment he first thought that it was a good idea to fuck around with his brother. Maybe it was their upbringing like Sam said. Lack of comfort turned inward, unraveling anything pure between them. Singeing, burning deep, consuming anything righteous he may have once deserved.

No, Dean was glad Sam got out if only because deep down he knew by comparison how miserable his own life was without him. He ruined the most valuable, virtuous person he knew and for that he needed to pay. Being alone was his penance.

When he woke up the day after his birthday and remembered the text, he fumbled with trembling fingers to open his phone and see that, yes, Sam  _had_  actually texted him. Staring at his phone, Dean was unsure of how to respond. Dumbstruck, he tucked his phone away and tried to get ready for the next hunt, though he couldn’t think beyond the heavy weight of his phone against his leg in his pocket while he prepared.

It took him nearly three weeks and one exuberant Mardi Gras party before Dean was able to respond.

_DW 3:47 AM: miss u sammy_

He had stumbled back to the motel he was staying in alone. John was away staking out the next hunt leaving Dean with time to get off-his-ass wasted.

His heart raced as he heard a ping from his phone moments later.

_SW 3:49 AM: miss you too dean_

Dean sat hard, nearly falling on the bed. He toed his boots and tried to figure out how to make his brain work. There were reasons not to talk to Sam but he sure as hell couldn’t think of them in the moment. As he held his phone, staring dazed at it, Dean tensed when it lit in his hand.

_SW 3:50 AM: you ok?_

Breathing hard, Dean willed his fingers to obey as he punched back a response.

_DW 3:54 AM: drunk so im good_

_SW 3:55 AM: hitting the mardi gras scene?_

_DW 3:58 AM: u no it_

_SW 4:01 AM: I really miss you Dean. I wish you were here_

_DW 4:07 AM: u kno that aint a good idea_

_SW 4:08 AM: doesn’t mean I don’t still miss you_

_DW 4:15 AM: u on ur period? gettin me all weepy eyed here_

_SW 4:19 AM: sorry. i’ll leave you alone. thanks for texting dean. i worry about you. its good knowin youre ok_

_DW 4:25 AM: any time littl bro_

Dean passed out with a warm feeling burning in his stomach and slept easy for the first night in months. When he woke it was with a very familiar pounding in his head. He grabbed the nearest bottle clutching for his hair of the dog remedy. Rubbing his eyes he turned on the screen of his phone to see his messages open.

_Shit._

He got fairly wasted quite often but even by normal standards the previous night had been a bit of a bender. Sober, Dean had never intended on messaging Sam. After quickly reading through, he deleted them. Every one.

Dean wasn’t about to start shit and he wasn’t going to ruin his brother’s new life by becoming part of it, no matter how small. He thought for a long while about ditching his phone to get a new number but a nagging part of his mind told him to hang on to it.  

The next time he heard from Sam it was the last week of March. Spring break.

_SW 1:37 AM: I dont know how you cn do this all th tim_

Dean’s heart raced as he fought with himself on whether or not he should respond. He stared at the screen until it illuminated in his hands.

_SW 1:43 AM: you ok man?_

_SW 1:44 AM: dean_

_SW 1:45 AM: dean_

_SW 1:46 AM: if your dead im gona kill yu_

_DW 1:47 AM: u drunk sammy?_

_SW 1:48 AM: sprin break_

_SW 1:49 AM: u ok?_

_DW 1:51 AM: pretty hard to txt from the grave - tho weve seen weirder_

_SW 1:52 AM: anythin good lately?_

_DW 1:54 AM: why - you miss it?_

_SW 1:55 AM: miss you_

Dean ignored the constricting ache in his heart as he adjusted himself on the bed, staring back at his phone. He had been working so hard at being okay but each text brought back everything. He knew he should turn off his phone. Hell, he should throw it away.

_SW 1:56 AM: where are you?_

_SW 2:01 AM: come visit me dean_

His stomach jumped as he read and reread the text. He was a few days out from Sam. He  _could_  do it. Dean could get in his car that very moment and go and see him. He wanted to. So damn bad. He did. Mustering up all his willpower, Dean held the power button on his phone until it turned black. He turned it off before he could say anything he’d regret then he forced himself to fall asleep pushing thoughts of Sam behind him.

He was surprised when he got another message the first week of April.

_SW 2:35 PM: I hate halloween man_

Dean laughed to himself and couldn’t help but to take the bait.

_DW 2:37 PM: nah you know you love it. makes you miss huntin huh?_

_SW 2:38 PM: hell no. horrible reminder. freakin ghosts and vampires and werewolves everywhere_

_SW 2:41 PM: remember that werewolf when i was, what 12?_

_DW 2:45 PM: you were scared out of your damn mind. beggin me to protect you_

_SW 2:46 PM: fuck you i held my own. i kicked ass for a kid_

_DW 2:48 PM: you were precious_

_SW 2:51 PM: i keep thinking about hunting. i hate halloween man_

_DW  2:53 PM: what the hell you thinkin about halloween for?_

_SW 3:02 PM: some guys are havin a halfway to halloween party_

_SW 3:04 PM: is one not enough?_

_DW 3:05 PM: apparently not. any reasons a good reason to party tho_

_SW 3:27 PM: Come visit me, Dean._

Dean inhaled sharply and stared at his phone, glaring back angry and judging him for wanting to say yes. He didn’t know how to respond. Sam wasn’t drunk this time and it had been months since he’d seen him. Dean knew he needed to stay away but he couldn’t imagine going his whole life without seeing his brother ever again. So maybe enough time had passed?

_SW 3:47 PM: don’t ignore me, Dean. please? just come for the weekend. or the day. or an hour. i don’t care i just want to see you_

_SW 3:51 PM: Please, Dean?_

Sighing to himself, Dean reluctantly responded, nervously pushing the keys on his phone.

_DW 4:02 PM: have to finish this job_

_SW 4:03 PM: yeah ok, but then?_

_SW 4:04 PM: when you’re done?_

_DW 4:06 PM: maybe_

_SW 4:07 PM: please dean?_

Dean’s heart swelled and it was near automatic when he replied.

_DW 4:08 PM: yeah ok sammy_

_SW 4:09 PM: really? youll come?_

_DW 4:12 PM: if you want_

_SW 4:13 PM: I do! itll be a birthday present_

_DW 4:14 PM: spoiled brat_

He was nervous as hell after that conversation. He hadn’t even heard his brother’s voice in eight months. They had only ever messaged. Dean didn’t know what the hell he was doing but his insides were already jumping and his blood was shifting and churning in his veins. He was going to see Sam again and he knew that day couldn’t come soon enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting the second he knew his brother was on the road and every moment getting closer. A few weeks after their text, Dean informed him his hunt was over. Sam quickly prompted him to get the hell in the car and come see him, and to Sam’s surprise he listened.

Knowing his brother was several hours away put Sam on edge. His blood vibrated through his limbs as he tried his to concentrate on class but it was useless. It was impossible to think that by the end of the day Dean would be there with him in the life he was making for himself even if it was only a visit.

In his entire life he and Dean had never been apart like they had in the last year. It was surreal for Sam to find himself walking back to his dorm after class, nervous as hell, glancing occasionally at his phone for messages. Hoping his brother hadn’t changed his mind. He paced in his room before killing enough time to take a shower and get ready. His wardrobe was bare from being in a constant state of financial struggle. Not that that wasn’t something he was already used to but it was more frustrating than usual. Sam was shaking, and more nervous than going on any date he could remember. And it was just to see his damn bother. Obviously, he knew there was more to it than that. He pushed,  _tried_ to push that out of his mind but it would be the first time he had seen Dean after leaving and it was hard not to be nervous about that. Ditching out on him after about the worst time you could ever ditch someone.

He’d been terrified to contact him after that. At first he wanted the space then he had been worried Dean wouldn’t speak to him at all. Leaving it how he did, Sam wasn’t sure what to expect. After a few months shy of a year of not seeing him, Sam was desperately hoping that his little crush was far behind him. Sam was able have a normal life and even had a few dates. Safe. Like he wanted. If he felt pangs of loneliness, Sam convinced himself it was due to entirely normal, nostalgic homesickness. Which, he reluctantly admitted was Dean-sickness. But brotherly. Brotherly, nostalgic, Dean-sickness.   

Somehow he had convinced Dean to visit.

That’s what reeled in Sam’s mind as he sat at a cheap diner waiting for his brother. He scratched at the table absently, trying hard not to stare out the window or lift his head every time the door opened. He failed miserably of course, and after each time he’d eagerly glance up, he’d sheepishly look to his phone in embarrassment to catch himself looking one last time for cancellation texts. Dean wasn’t even late but Sam still felt the imminent approach of disappointment. It had just been so long and it seemed nearly impossible that his brother was going to be there. Any minute.

Then he was.

The door opened and Sam saw him walk inside. His heart was beating harder than it ever did in training. Goosebumps ran down his arms as he saw Dean turn his head. His eyes lit up immediately after spotting Sam. Sam was frozen in his seat as Dean came nearer. With increased breath, he swore to himself realizing that whatever the hell feelings he had hoped were gone were very decidedly not.

Sam forced himself to smile as he stood next to the booth. “Dean,” he whispered breathlessly fidgeting with his fingers. Wrapping his arms around his brother, shorter than he remembered, Sam inhaled deep, appreciating the familiar scent of Dean.

Dean slapped his back as he pulled away, “Christ, Sammy, what are they feeding you here? You grow another foot?”

Laughing awkwardly, Sam quickly slid into the booth across from Dean. He bit his lip and quipped, “Pretty sure you’ve always been a shrimp, man.”

Sam’s stomach fluttered as Dean smiled at him, freckles sprinkled across his nose. He didn’t realize how damn bad he missed those freckles.

They both sat uncomfortably in the booth. Sam urged himself not to remember that the last time he had seen Dean they’d both been naked and hot and skin slicked with sweat but he wasn’t successful. As memories of wild-eyed, moaning, and thrusting into his brother trickled through his thoughts, Sam fought to avoid the blush rising to his cheeks. Failing miserably, he cleared his throat as he brought a menu up to hide his face.

Dean picked up on the cue and did the same.

They tried to make small talk and it worked well enough Sam figured, but he still hadn’t felt so uneasy since leaving. They ate their meal, though Sam didn’t have much of an appetite. After they got their bill Sam tried to think of something more substantial to talk to Dean about but it eluded him.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat.

“So,” Dean replied, avoiding eye contact.

“Did you get a motel? How long are you staying?”

Dean worried his lip and turned away, “No, just thought I’d roll through. There’s a-” Dean rubbed his mouth, “There’s this hunt in Reno. I told Dad I’d swing by.”

“Right,” Sam nodded solemnly. “Something big, or-”

“Salt and burn.” Dean smirked, “I’d ask you to join but-”

“I’ll pass.”

“What I figured,” Dean’s fingers strummed the table absently.

Sam scratched his neck, “You know, if you wanna stay-”

“Nah,” Dean interrupted. “I should, you know, I should probably be going. Got a few more hours to drive.”

“Yeah,” Sam swallowed the lump welling in his throat. “Yeah, no, I get it. Saving lives and all that.” He laughed sadly, “Big brother Batman.”

“Yeah,” Dean smirked scratching his forehead, “You know me.” Finally, Dean shuffled out of the booth and Sam reluctantly followed. Dean cleared his throat and asked, “Need a ride?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, Dean. That would be great.”

It was dark now. They both walked out, feet stumbling underneath Sam as he set eyes on the Impala. His heart warmed seeing the familiar car, his home, right in front of him.

Dean opened the door and rested his arms on the hood, “Miss her?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, soothing his hand over the body. “Yeah, I do, Dean.” Sam opened the door and crawled in. She smelled the same. To his unexpected relief, nothing over the school year had changed.

Dean drove to the campus in silence. There were so many things Sam wanted to tell him. So many things he wanted to say but couldn’t figure out where to begin. When Dean pulled up to his dorm, Sam couldn’t force himself to open the door. In the darkness, in the familiarity of the car with his brother at his side, Sam couldn’t make himself leave.

“Dean,” he started carefully, “About how I left-”

“No,” his brother interrupted harshly.

“I just-”

“No, Sam. We’re  _not_  talking about that.”

Sam turned to look at his brother. Dean had his hands wrapped tight around the wheel and was staring straight ahead. His stomach lurched as Sam tried again, “You just have to know-”

“Sam. I mean it,” he warned. “If you  _ever_  want to see me again, you’ll shut the hell up. Right now. I’m not fuckin’ around.”

Warm tears prickled behind his eyes and Sam swallowed the nervous feeling in his throat. He took a few moments to pace his breathing before asking, “But you  _will_  come back?”

Dean turned to look out the window. After a long pause he looked back. Meeting Sam’s eyes he quietly admitted, “Yeah, Sammy. If you want.”

Sam smiled. Taking a few more breaths he punched Dean in the arm playfully to quickly change his mood, “How many times, Dean? How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Keep reminding me,” Dean smirked, “Bet it’ll sink in one of these days.”

“Sink into  _your_  brain? Not likely.” Sam shook his head, “Too many blows to the head. No, I get it, Dean. Can’t remember your own brother’s name. It’s sad, really. When we check you into the mental institution it’ll be a tragedy. ‘Brain damage. And he was so young too,’ they’ll say.”

“Jackass. My brain’s just fine.” Dean shook his head, reluctantly smiling warmly, “I gotta admit, though, it’s fun watching you throw a bitch fit every time I call you, ‘Sammy.’”

“Yeah, well,” Sam shook his head, faint smile on his lips. He’d never admit it but at that moment he realized just how much he had been missing his brother’s taunts and jabs. Clearing his throat, Sam said, “Well, I guess I should head out. You sure you don’t want to crash? Take off first thing in the morning?”

“Nah,” Dean sighed. “Gotta go be Batman, remember?”

“You never let me forget.” Sam looked intently at his brother, face growing serious. He leaned in, grabbing around his arm and waist and hugged him tight, “Thanks for coming, Dean.”

Dean patted him on the back, “Was good to see you, kiddo.”

With one last tight squeeze, Sam let go and forced himself to leave the car.

At least he got to properly say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up splitting up this chapter because it got to be over twice as long as the rest - so there is still one more chapter to go! It will be posted very soon!


	13. Chapter 13

In Sam’s senior year of high school they had somehow been able to find a balance but Dean didn’t think it could be done again. This time there was too much damage. Too much destroyed after how his brother left but somehow Sam and Dean both worked to stay in casual contact. Mostly through text but there was an occasional call. It didn’t slip Dean’s attention that Sam had encouraged him to stay at his dorm and it was hard to refuse. It was a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross. Not while he still felt the way he did about his brother.

Dean wasn’t sure how Sam felt but apparently he didn’t hate him. And that was something. Whether it was due to Dean brainwashing him into hero worship or if it was through a mutually twisted dependency, he wasn’t sure. But Sam continued to stay in contact and Dean wasn’t able to deny him that.

After seeing each other for the first time in months, time in general began to pass much faster. After a summer of comfortable texting, Dean found Sam was already into his second year of college. It surprised him to find that their lives were manageable. He wasn’t drinking as much and Dean was even taking on more solo hunts. The overwhelming feeling of loss wasn’t quite as encompassing as it had been initially. He still missed Sam more than anything but he understood why it needed to be how it was and he fought hard to make life without his brother work.

When October struck Dean practically expected the first text from his brother.

_SW 4:37 PM: this damn holiday_

_SW 4:38 PM: ghosts and werewolves and vampires everywhere_

_SW 4:39 PM: if i see one more green skin, mole-faced witch im gonna start breakin skulls_

_DW 3:40 PM: free candy, man. how can you hate a holiday with free candy?_

_DW 3:41 PM: its unconstitutional_

_SW 3:42 PM: obviously none of these people have ever seen a witch, let alone a REAL ghost_

_DW 3:44 PM: should i break out my ghost trap so you can bring one in for show n tell?_

_SW 3:45 PM: just dont cross the streams_

_SW 3:51 PM: what are you doing for halloween anyway?_

_DW 4:01 PM: working a case now - if i get done i dunno_

_DW 4:02 PM: dont really got a hunt lined up_

_SW 4:03 PM: Come visit, man. It’s been a while._

_DW 4:04 PM: dont gotta get all fancy with me sam. whippin out the cap letters to impress your big bro, college boy?_

_SW 4:06 PM: nah, man, its a formal invitation when its a complete sentence_

_SW 4:07 PM: Come on, Jackass. You know you want to._

_DW 4:11 PM: im swoonin over here sam - look at that punctuation_

_SW 4:12 PM: shut up - so you comin or what?_

_DW 4:32 PM: if i finish my hunt then i guess i might be able to head that way_

_SW 4:37 PM: yeah?_

_SW 4:42 PM: keep me updated_

_DW 4:45 PM: will do_

It turned out Dean finished his hunt early. It’s not like he’d been rushing it or anything, it just happened to get done in time. He may have gotten himself cut up good in the process but it wasn’t like he was distracted from lack of sleep. It would have happened anyway. Or that was the story he’d tell his brother if he asked.

Dean made the trip to Palo Alto the Friday, nearly a week before Halloween. He was bruised but figured he could hide it well enough. And if not then, hell, it  _was_  Halloween. No one would think twice about a bit of dried blood.

He was nervous about meeting up with Sam, obviously, but nothing compared to seeing him for the first time after  _that_  night. Dean couldn’t even bring himself to think the words. He waited outside the dorm as he saw Sam come bounding down the stairs, waving to someone behind him. When he turned, Dean could see how tan his skin was, and shit the kid never stopped growing. Not just tall but his shoulders were broad and the way he held himself was with confidence. There was no denying that California was treating him well.

Dean suddenly felt insecure about himself, beaten and bruised. He’d had months of benders and they had not been kind to him. Shaking the thoughts aside, Dean turned down the music as his brother opened the car door.

“Dean,” Sam’s cheeks formed his dimples perfectly as he said his name.

“Heyya, Sam,” he replied. Dean had hoped that since they’d been keeping in contact they would avoid the awkward greeting. It was his luck that was not the case. Dean asked, “So, this is your town. Where am I going?”

Sam was smiling at him, staring, searching over his face. He quickly shook his head, “Oh, right. Um, well I was thinking we could hit one of the bars. There’s this one called Petey’s I think you’d like. Bit of a dive.”

“So the fake ID is one thing you were willing to keep from your childhood?”

“Childhood?” Sam scoffed sarcastically.

“You’ll always be a big baby to me, Sammy,” Dean smirked as he threw the car into gear.

Following his instructions, Dean took them to the local dive, number one choice of the collegiate geniuses of Stanford. Dean had to admit it was fairly decent. The money from the rich kids attending school was probably being put to good use at Petey’s

Grabbing a few beers from the bar, Sam led them to a table near the back next to a few pool tables and dart boards. Dean felt his brother’s gaze on him so he lifted his eyebrow questioningly.

“No scamming tonight, okay?”

Dean laughed and rolled his eyes, “Come on, Sam, I think mommy and daddy dearest can afford to see some of their hard earned go to more needy hands.”

“Yeah, but then I have to explain why I know the asshole taking everyone’s money.”

“Fine. I’ll leave your precious friends alone.” Dean took a drink and cased the room. It was dark but spacious. “So what’s the deal? It’s Friday night in a college town, this place is kinda dead.”

Sam took a drink of his beer before saying, “Halloween parties. Everyone is having them this weekend since it’s on a Thursday this year.”

“Oh, right,” Dean nodded. “What, you don’t got any friends? No one invited you?”

Shaking his head, Sam replied, “Dude. It’s Halloween. I’m okay skipping this one.”

“Sam, you don’t have to lie to me, man. If your lame-ass wasn’t invited you don’t gotta put up a front,” Dean teased.

Glaring at Dean, Sam replied, “My friend Steve lives a few blocks away from campus. He’s having one tonight if you  _really_  wanna go. I thought this would be more your thing, though.”

“Aw, come on, Sam. I don’t want to hold you back from your college experience.”

“More like you wanna find some co-eds and get laid,” Sam rolled his eyes.

Raising his eyebrows suggestively, Dean asked, “You got a hook up for me? Don’t be holdin’ out on me here, Sammy.”

Sam huffed a smirked, “Don’t need my help, man. You always manage to find ‘em on your own.”

“Aw, I won’t ditch you tonight. So, where’s this party?” Dean threw back a swig of his beer.

“You really wanna go?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah man. I wanna see what I’m missin’ out on.”

Sam shook his head, “Alright, if you want.”

As they finished their drinks Dean was feeling more at ease with his brother. It was scary how fast they could fall back into step. It made Dean feel warm that no matter what the hell happened, and they’d been through the ringer, he always seemed to have Sam. No matter what, they were still brothers and it was like nothing else in the world. Maybe it was the alcohol talking but Dean was starting to feel pretty damn good as he made his way with Sam to his friend’s party.

They entered the house to find a large assortment of people in costumes milling around, dancing, singing off-key. Sam walked them over to the nearest table with drinks set out. Grabbing one, Dean quickly threw it back. When he turned around he saw his brother talking with some yuppie looking bastard he could only hope was wearing a costume. Dean did everything he could to hold back an eye roll as Sam introduced them.

“Steve this is my-” Sam stopped, looking past Steve. His eyes widened and he quickly continued, “This is my  _friend_ , Dean.”

Dean was momentarily hurt to be called his ‘friend’ like Sam was embarrassed to be related to him. He lifted an eyebrow questioning, but Sam shook his head and gave him a pointed look that clearly stated,  _Go the hell along with it. I’ll explain later_.

Holding out his hand, Dean firmly shook Steve’s.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, “You didn’t tell me Audrey was gonna be here. I thought she transferred?” Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed but Dean was acutely aware of Sam slowly positioning himself closer to him. Dean could feel the heat of his brother’s arm close to his.

Steve, the solid muscular yuppie, laughed, “Shit, I forgot.” He looked behind him to the young woman that Sam had his eyes on. Turning back, he laughed, “She hasn’t seen you yet. You could probably sneak out.” Steve slapped Sam on the back then turned away talking to someone else.

Dean looked at Sam questioning, but before he had time to say anything the woman, Audrey, seemed to be making her way straight for Sam. She was small and had thick dark ringlets and oversized black glasses. If she wasn’t so trendy Dean would say she was hot, though it might just be a costume, hard to tell. There was clearly something going on between her and his brother and by how uncomfortable Sam quickly became he was sure it wasn’t anything good.

Before Audrey made it to them, Sam leaned down and whispered to Dean, “I am so, so, sorry, dude. Please don’t leave. I know this isn’t cool but just... be cool, okay? Please?” Dean looked into his brother’s pleading eyes. He was clearly nervous as hell and he looked nearly sick.

“I’m cool, dude. Relax,” Dean replied.

“Hey, Sam!” Audrey smiled and ran for his brother. She wrapped her arms around his neck much to Dean’s annoyance.

Dean watched as Sam patted her back uncomfortably reciprocating an awkward hug, “Hey, Audrey.” As soon as he let go, Sam stepped closer to Dean. He held his arm out which Dean could feel close on his back.

“What are you doing here? I thought you hated-” She stopped talking when her eyes landed on Dean. “Oh my god, wow! You actually _exist_. I was beginning to think Sam made you up.”

Sensing Sam’s apprehension, Dean put his game face on and smiled warmly at her, “Nope, ‘fraid not.”

“Well, you have quite a catch here! I’m Audrey by the way. I don’t know if he ever mentioned me?” She bit her lip looking as Sam suspiciously.

 _Catch?_ Dean lifted his eyebrow at Sam. “Sorry, I can’t remember. Horrible with names,” he smiled. Quickly filling in the blanks, Dean’s heart started to race and he took a step closer, into Sam. With his free arm he wrapped it around Sam’s lower back possessively, “I’m Dean.”

“That’s right,” she smiled brightly looking from Sam to Dean back to Sam. “I really thought you made him up, Sam.”

His brother smiled tightly. Dean could feel how tense he was. It was now painfully obvious to Dean that Sam had told Audrey they were dating. A warm feeling flooded through his chest as he became brave enough to move the solid comforting hand on Sam’s back to wrap around the side of his hip.

“Well, I think I need another drink. Sammy? Can I get you somethin'?”

Sam nodded at him, smiling tensely. It was definitely the influence of alcohol making him brave enough for Dean to bring his hand to Sam’s neck and guide him close, making it look like he was kissing him on the cheek. Amused, Dean whispered quietly, “You so owe me, dude.” He allowed his hand to linger, feeling Sam shiver under his touch, before he left scouting for more booze.

Dodging around people, he walked over to a table and loaded up with something from a punch bowl that smelled strong enough to strip paint. By the time he turned back he narrowed his eyes to see Audrey’s hands fawning all over his brother. Sam was tense and clearly in over his head with that one. Dean felt an immediate urge of anger well within him. Her hands pawed against his bicep and moved to his chest and who did this bitch think she was? Sam was  _his_  and here she was, all over him in front of everyone.

Cutting through the crowd of people, Dean made his way back to his brother. Audrey recoiled as soon as Dean handed the plastic cup over to Sam. With his free hand, Dean placed it possessively back around Sam’s waist. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was feeling like it was the only damn time he’d ever be able to touch his brother like that, Dean pulled him closer and leaned into his ear whispering only for Sam, “If I’m reading this wrong, stop me.”

With an only partially fake smile, Dean nudged his nose against Sam’s ear then quickly turned to Audrey, “Hope I didn’t miss anything too exciting?” He forced his voice to drip, falsely saccharine as the hand around his brother’s waist forced Sam closer. The pressure of his hip burning into Dean's. Smile becoming more sincere, he felt Sam’s free hand wrap around his hip and fingers tuck into his belt loop.

“Just catching up with Sam, here,” Audrey’s smile was faltering. It was turning into something a bit darker as her eyes narrowed at Sam then landed back to Dean. She looked nearly predatorial.

Sam cleared his throat, “Audrey and I had a bio class together.”

She laughed, “Guess you could say that.”

Sam glared at her, tensing under Dean’s arm.

It was becoming obvious that this bitch was trying to get Sam in trouble for cheating and Dean couldn’t stand it. His eyes lit up as he scanned her face then turned to Sam, “Baby, is this the one you were telling me about? I think it’s coming back to me now,” Dean smiled smugly enjoying the small shocked look on her face. He licked his bottom lip suggestively then leaned in to whisper to Sam, “This chick is annoying.”

Sam laughed sincerely and turned to whisper back to Dean, “I owe you so much, dude.”  
  
Pulling away from him but making sure to keep eye contact, Dean said very audibly ensuring Audrey could hear, “You can pay me back later in bed.” He winked at Sam then turned to see Audrey staring daggers at him. “Well, I think I’m gonna hit the snack bar. Free candy, Sammy. Can’t turn that down, right?”

“Right,” Sam pointed at him with an awkward shell shocked look. He smiled tensely at Audrey, “This one can never turn down anything sweet.”  
  
“Hot and sweet, just how I like ‘em,” Dean smirked at her then grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him away. He heard Sam apologize a quick goodbye as Dean pulled him close behind. He didn’t let go of his hand until they reached the snack table.

Sam turned towards him, “Shit Dean, I am so so sorry! Shit.”

Dean laughed, “Dude, bitch seems friggin’ psycho.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

“So what’s the story?” Dean asked, loading up a plate with chips.

Sam eye's darted back and forth and he bit his lip, “So, she’s hot, right?” Dean shrugged. “We had a bio class together. She was pretty forward, asked me out on a date. I said okay. You know, whatever. We went on a couple dates and I see she’s just batshit. Like, planning our wedding, possessive, texting and calling all hours of the night. And like, we’d only been on a few dates.”

“Did you bang her? Cause, gotta tell you man, the crazy ones know what they’re doin’ in the sack. Eager to please,” Dean lifted his eyebrows.

“No! Not even close. We made out, like,  _once._  But anyway, she’s not taking no for an answer, right? So, I start to tell her I was getting out of a bad relationship and, you know, whatever bullshit I could think of. Then one day she’s over at my dorm, my roommate let her in, she’s going through my stuff, looking at pictures. One was of you.”

“Startin’ to make some sense.”

“I figured if she thought I was gay or going through some sexual identity crisis she’d get the hint. And it worked. But I wasn’t expecting  _you_  be anywhere near when she decided to show up. Last I heard she transferred but apparently she still has friends here. Have I mentioned the part where I’m sorry?”

Dean scoffed, “Couple times.” At this point, Dean found the situation pretty damn hilarious. “I can just see you fumbling around, trying to keep her off of you.”

“ _Pepper spray_  isn’t strong enough, man.”

“Them’s the breaks when you decide to stick around the same town, dude.”

Sam bit his lip and picked chips off of Dean’s plate. Dean glared at him and Sam smiled back as he popped them into his mouth. “So, since she’s here, you wanna bail? I mean, it’s kind of… awkward.”

Avoiding Sam’s gaze, Dean replied, “I dunno, man. Could be kind of interesting?”

“Yeah?” Sam stepped closer to him.

Dean’s heart started racing. He knew the game they were playing was a dangerous one but if Sam didn’t mind then what the hell. He knew it was the booze talking but he was ready to play.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam’s heart stopped when he saw Audrey at the party. He struggled, wondering how he could get himself and Dean the hell out before she saw them but she had a freaky heightened sense and sought him out immediately. He panicked instantly just imaging how his brother would react.

To his relief and surprise, Dean was cool with it. Sam had readied himself for a freak out, a conniption of massive proportions, and he couldn’t think of a single damn thing to say to him to make it okay. Dean was rightly sensitive about the subject and here Sam had thrown it in his face, unwarranted and public like it was inconsequential and not the undoing of their entire relationship.

Maybe Sam had found the perfect window of Dean’s buzz from the alcohol. Or maybe it was because Dean was acclimating to their past. Whatever it was, Sam was thankful Dean played along. And he was surprised that he wanted to stay at the party.

His Halloween wasn’t as horrible as it could have been, Sam had to admit. He drank more than he should have, though. He and Dean both.

Leaning against his brother's side in the crowded living room, Sam swallowed nervously and asked, “So, you staying tonight then?”

Dean replied sheepishly, “Suppose I shouldn’t drive like this.”

“Seein’ double yet?”

“Not quite,” Dean smiled putting his hand low on Sam’s back keeping up the facade. 

Audrey filtered in and out of the room, occasionally staring daggers in their direction, but they didn’t really need to keep up their pretense. Though, Dean didn’t seem to mind and Sam sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him. It was good to have him there. A full year at Stanford, which he was damn proud of, but he still couldn’t push aside the lonely feeling of being away from his brother.

None of his friends knew him, not really. Only Dean. It was a nice comfort to finally feel at ease. He didn’t have to remember which lie he told which person. Audrey was a good example of that.

So when Dean wrapped his arm around him and leaned in close against his side, Sam wasn’t going to complain. And he wasn't going to stop him.

They left the party nearing 3:00 AM. Sam lead the way and they walked steadily towards his dorm. He wasn’t sure how he convinced Dean to stay, but he did, and he continued to brush against him the whole way back feeling like he could never get enough. Never quite close enough. Dean grabbed his arm and leaned into him. He laughed and in that moment Sam felt his heart swell. Through everything they had been through, at the core of it he still had Dean.

They waited patiently in the elevator as it pinged up each floor. In the silence of the lift, the blinding light contrasting with the darkness they had just emerged from, Sam couldn’t stop himself from casually touching Dean. Wrapping his arm around his shoulders he paid sharp attention to the hard planes of his muscles. Dean shifted and leaned into him.

Sam looked down at him, smiling. As the doors of the elevator opened he said, “I’m really glad you’re here, Dean.”

“Yeah,” he snorted, “You need me to save your ass from psycho floozies.”

He laughed to himself, "Exactly, Dean," then directed Dean’s shoulders out of the elevator and towards his dorm. Sam dropped his keys outside the door and Dean laughed as he stumbled to pick them up fighting to figure out how they work.

“Still a damn lightweight, Sam,” Dean slapped his back. “Thought you’d outgrow that by now.”

“I, like, never go out dude,” Sam finally opened the door. He didn’t bother to flip the light on as he walked over to the bed. A soft glow was illuminating from a desk lamp giving him enough room to see as he kicked his shoes off and sat down. “Maybe like, once every couple months. I have a full course load, dude.”

“It’s a good thing I came then, get you out of your dorm. Make you live a little,” Dean scratched his forehead, “You got a roommate?”

“Yeah, David. He’s probably at his girlfriend’s.” Sam waved Dean over, “Com’ere.”

Dean sighed, mockingly reluctant as he sat next to Sam on his bed.

“Dean,” Sam grabbed his shoulders forcing his brother to turn and meet his eyes. “You’re not fighting me on this. You’re sleeping here. In my bed.”

“Pssh, where you sleeping?”

“Here. In my bed,” Sam laughed.

“So you can kick me in the middle of the night?”

“Dean, come on,” Sam rubbed his shoulder. “We’re…” he paused, “We’re _fine_ , dude _._  So you’re staying. Here. Or I will tie you to the posts.”

“With you weak ass knots, think I can’t escape?” He inhaled deeply before responding, “Yeah, fine. Okay. Whatever the spoiled brat wants.”

Sam stood and unzipped his jeans. Pulling them off he said, “If I’m spoiled,  _whose_  fault was that, huh? ‘Cause Dad sure as hell wasn’t raisin’ me.”

Dean glared at him as he stood up, wobbling only slightly as he punched Sam’s arm, “Smart-ass bitch.”

“Asshole,” Sam fell back on his bed and watched as Dean kicked out of his jeans. Even though Sam kept his own shirt on, to his disappointment Dean left his on as well when he crawled onto the bed next to him.

Sam pushed his body as far back into the wall as he could make it go. He felt the bed shake and when he looked at his brother he could see Dean laughing, eyes crinkling in the corner. “What’s so funny?”

Dean wiped his eyes, “This is absolutely fuckin’ ridiculous. What are you, like eight feet tall? We can’t sleep like this, dude.”

“No, no, it’s fine. We can fit,” Sam tried to hold himself further against the wall. “We did all the time when we were kids,” he grabbed Dean at his waist and forced him to scoot in closer ensuring he wouldn't fall off. Sam laughed hard, “Come on, can’t back down from a challenge. Don’t let the dorm bed win, Dean.”

Dean chuckled as he lifted his hand, mirroring positions, placing his hand on the narrow part of Sam’s waist. Sam blinked slowly, still smiling at his brother. He had forced himself not to think of it all night, not to place words on the excited, nervous, jumping feeling anytime his brother touched him. But Dean was in his bed, smelling the way he smelled, and he was touching Sam and smiling like he hadn’t seen him smile in a hell of a long time. Sam shifted his head closer nearly touching Dean’s.

“So,” Dean whispered, gripping Sam’s hip. “Who else thinks we’re dating?”

Sam smiled and closed his eyes, “After tonight? Probably never convince anyone I’m straight.”

The ache between himself and Dean grew with each passing moment. His throat constricted. A fear scratching in the wall of his mind was telling him to stop and to move away and there were thousands of reasons to get the hell off his bed but he was too relaxed and Dean was so warm. He was like a goddamn breath of air after gasping, struggling to find the surface. Sam couldn’t stop as his hand moved along Dean’s side.

He felt his brother wince. Sam asked, “You okay?”

Dean shivered under his touch, “Just, from the hunt. Got beat to hell.”

“Oh shit, Dean,” Sam moved his hand and looked down. “You should have told me.”

Dean rolled his eyes and looked down at his shirt. He lifted it up to show and Sam could see purple yellowing bruises on his skin and scratches of dried blood along his stomach. Sam’s hand instantly went to Dean’s as he lifted the thin fabric farther up to see more irritated red marks, thin gashes along his torso and up his chest.

“I’ve had worse,” Dean sighed.

Sam shook his head. It was impossible for him to move away. Sam’s hand traveled down Dean’s chest, against his fluttering stomach. He could feel the raised scabs catch against his palm. It contrasted Dean’s soft skin and downy hair low on his abdomen. His heart was racing. Sam tried not to notice Dean swelling in his boxers, so close to his hand. Taking a deep breath, Sam closed his eyes, which only brought his attention to his own situation growing hard against his will.

“Sam,” Dean warned.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied breathlessly.

Blinking his eyes back open, Sam focused hazy on his brother’s, wide and green staring back at him through questioning, pleading eyes. A gnawing thought etched away at him. He wanted to wake up next to Dean. He wanted to have the memory of his brother in his arms all night in his bed. In all other parts of his life Sam hated the reckless abandon that his brother easily threw himself into. And Sam couldn’t. He _wouldn’t,_  except when it came to Dean. His brother made him feel invincible.

As he licked his bottom lip, Sam leaned into his brother. He brought his hand to Dean’s cheek and kissed him. It wasn’t shy but it wasn’t hurried and he recognized the second Dean joined him, kissing back and gripping his hip tight enough to bruise. Sam fell into him, finally abandoning what was left of his common sense as his tongue touched Dean’s, hot and wet and so fucking good. He trembled in awe that it was happening.

Months of detox and Sam was back looking for a hit. Dean was poison, airborne and deadly. Silent and beckoning Sam to forget everything he wanted for himself and turn everything over to this man in front of him. The one who raised him and showed him the world. The man he let tend his wounds after adrenaline pumping fights to the death. Everything between them had gotten so crossed but right then he didn’t care. And it was perfect. Sam couldn’t believe how much he missed his brother and how much he wanted him.

He grew more insistent, pushing and pulling and biting at his brother’s lips, doing everything in his power to make him moan. To once again hear those familiar sounds. Sam leaned into him further cradling his head, holding him into the kiss. Then he forced Dean to move, slide to the middle of the bed and underneath Sam as he sat up and adjusted himself never leaving his brother’s mouth. Dean’s skin burned under his touch and Sam couldn’t get enough of the sweltering heat.

He held him down on the narrow mattress, hip to hip, and it was like Sam was _finally_ home. Leeching onto his brother’s neck, kissing down his chest where he belonged. Dean writhed underneath arching into him as Sam scratched new angry marks into his brother’s skin, and if he ripped open a few of the healing wounds then they would match the ones tearing into Sam’s heart.

Like a wave of lucidity overcoming him, Sam leaned back, moving away to properly straddle Dean. He was rough, pulling Dean where he needed, moving his legs together as Sam sat firmly in his lap, rutting against him, his brother hard underneath his ass. And he couldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t stop the heat from consuming him, biting and licking against the skin.

Sam knew he was drunk. And he knew the reasons why they shouldn’t, but to hell with it. Hell is where he and Dean would go from starting their fucked up journey anyway so he might as well enjoy it. Dean’s hands grasped hard against his chest and Sam realized he still had his shirt on. Leaning back, removing his lips from his brother’s neck, Sam ripped his shirt over his head then forced Dean to do the same. Sam’s heart jumped seeing the amulet he gave him land hard against his chest. By the time Sam was coming back down, he hesitated. His eyes focused on Dean’s staring back at him. Devastation in their wake.

Slowly, Sam leaned back down and kissed Dean gently now against his bruised and swollen lips.

“Sam,” his brother’s voice wrecked against his mouth. “Come on, Sammy. We gotta stop,” he pleaded.

But he couldn’t.

He’d fallen into the abyss years ago and it finally sunk in, the depths of his depravity. It was too damn late and all Sam wanted was Dean. There he was right in front of him but he was telling Sam no.

Sam didn’t have a good record accepting things he wasn’t supposed to change. When he didn’t like something, he  _made_  it work his way.

As Dean said no, Sam closed his eyes tighter, blocking out the weak pleading whimpers from his brother. Delicately, his lips brushed so softly against Dean’s neck, then chest as he moved down, kissing his nipple briefly. Laving around, bringing it to full attention in the overheated room, he worried it between his lips paying close attention to the sharp intake of breath from Dean. His chest rising and falling. His hips bucked softly against him which alone was enough to make Sam’s eyes roll back and meet him with friction.

No. Sam wasn’t going to stop. And he knew Dean didn’t want him to.

If Dean wanted him to stop he could damn well make him.

Sam continued to map his body, kissing, nipping down. Dean’s stomach fluttered against his lips and Sam couldn’t help but smile. His teeth bit against the elastic on Dean’s boxers.

One more time, Dean begged, “Sammy, come on.”

“Come on and stop?” Sam lifted his head. His dark slanted eyes caught Dean’s underneath the fringe of his hair. Smirking suggestively he asked, “Or come on and blow you already?”

Dean moaned beneath him, shifting his hips. Sam didn’t give him a chance to answer as he pulled back the elastic and grabbed him, hard heat throbbing firmly in his hand. Just as he heard him plead again, Sam licked the beading wetness on the tip. It was better than anything he remembered. He didn’t wait for his brother to answer him as he held his hips tight, limiting Dean’s movement, doing whatever it took to convince Dean that right then, right at _that_ moment, they were doing exactly what they were made for. His hands twisted and pulled as he licked and sucked and he fought removing their remaining clothes, exposing them both to the night softly illuminated from the glow of his lamp.

Reluctantly, Sam lifted his lips, bruised and swollen from his brother’s cock. He kissed back up his chest and neck and finally landed on his target, crushing his lips against Dean’s. To his surprise and utter relief, Dean’s hands fumbled through his hair and he pulled Sam hard against him, giving in finally. In that moment Sam was so goddamn happy.

Dean, the reckoning force of nature with a personal vendetta against the supernatural, an imposing authority capable of innumerable skills both violent and pleasurable, and he finally made his hairpin turn relinquishing his doubts for a later time.

Silken and burning to the touch, skin soft and muscles hard, Dean gripped him bucking and thrusting underneath as Sam panted into his mouth.

Breathlessly moaning, Sam whispered, “Fuck me, Dean. Please. Just fuck me.”

Dean tensed and stopped kissing him. Sam froze, panic stricken and shaking as he had finally gotten him to cooperate. Sam looked into his brother’s eyes, blown dark, Dean replied softly, “No, Sammy.”     

His heart fell, worse than a punch to the gut.

Dean ran his fingers through his hair and pulled Sam back down, “Didn’t say stop.”

Sam laughed in relief kissing gently, “Think you said it a couple times actually.”

“Fuck you,” Dean smirked.

“What I was hoping for.”

Dean moaned into his mouth. Lifting his head he kissed hard against Sam’s lips. He pulled away and asked, “Got any lube?”

Sam froze again. He pushed himself up to look at Dean, “Really?”

“No, man,” Dean bit his lip nervously, “You’re gonna fuck me.”

Heart stopping, Sam said, “Oh.” He held himself there a moment, stomach flipping nervously.

Wriggling underneath, Dean asked, “So, is that a yes?”

Smiling, Sam pushed himself up from his brother and turned around to his desk. Frantically digging through his drawer he pulled out a bottle of lotion. He shrugged at Dean who was laying there, naked on his bed, a lascivious offering in front of him. He didn’t have time for second thoughts. He was back on his brother, breathing into his mouth, trembling over him, amazed that somehow he was able to be there. In that moment. With Dean.

“Come on, Sam,” Dean begged as he thrust his hips, encouraging him to hurry the hell up.

Steadying himself, Sam worked his way down his brother again settling between his legs, mindful to bring the lotion with him. Confidently, he licked up Dean’s shaft smiling as he shivered beneath him. Sam again started pumping him as he wrapped his lips around the head of his cock. With his free hand, he cupped his balls gently before rubbing lightly at his entrance. He lifted his hand from Dean’s dick as he fumbled several pumps of the lotion into his hand which he immediately returned.

Dean hissed, “Fuckin’ cold, dude.” Sam smirked bringing his tongue back to his cock. He could see his brother smile, “Shit. Okay. Much better.”

Sam rubbed, moving his finger carefully and teasing before finally breaching in and out of his brother. He crooked his finger while inside causing Dean to writhe underneath him. He was tight around his finger and purely destroyed writhing on his bed.

The first time they’d done this, Sam had been so worried. Dean had been so much more drunk than he had ever been. Even though his brother was wasted now, Sam could more properly appreciate the moans of pleasure Dean purred from on top of his bed. The pressure of it not being their first time alleviated some of his stress.

Continuing to work him open adding more fingers, Sam himself was growing impatient. His own cock was throbbing from neglect and with Dean tight and hot around his fingers he was losing restraint. Kneeling between Dean’s legs, Sam slicked himself with lotion, hissing but laughing from the cold. He added more to Dean before lining himself up as his hole.

Before entering, Sam leaned down and kissed Dean, desperate, and fleeting, and willing all of his emotions through the tip of his tongue hoping that Dean understood. With Dean underneath him, Sam was holding onto his last thread of sanity and all he wanted to do was cut it and fall into his brother. Let go of the guilt and the fear and hold on to him like he was all that mattered because in that moment, like so many others in his life, in that moment Dean  _was_  all that mattered. Playing normal was the act but there with his brother he could be who he truly was and Sam wanted nothing more but to embraced it. To cherish it. Something so good couldn’t really be that bad.

Trembling over him, Sam slowly pushed his cock in, wincing as the heat of his brother engulfed him. Dean arched his back and Sam soothed his lips over his neck.

“Okay?” Sam asked.

“Don’t think your height was the only thing growin’,” Dean hissed.

Sam laughed quietly, “You feel so fuckin’ good, Dean.” Breathing against his brothers skin, he confessed, “I missed you. God, I missed you so much.”

Dean bucked up into him, “Come on, Sammy. Make me feel it.”

Sam closed his eyes, smiling to himself. Lifting his hips, he thrusted slowly making Dean’s eyes squeeze shut tight and mouth turn into a wincing smile.

Holding his breath, not daring to make a noise, Sam moved his hips again. His blood rushing through his veins, heart palpitating jumping so hard under his chest, falling into Dean like the last year never happened. Fucking into him for all the time he missed. An apology. A prayer. A confession of sin that could only be forgiven with each thrust working inside of his brother.

Dean’s hands roamed his body, squeezing, bruising, scratching, leaving proof that he was there and this night was happening. Like Sam hadn’t already been cut open with an etching of his brother's name on his heart then stitched up while they both ignored it, pretending what was between them didn’t exist. In that moment pushing, and thrusting, and sweating, and writhing over his brother, in  _that_  moment Sam knew he was fucked to hell because this man beneath him was his world and it terrified him. Just discovering the depths of the fallacy in fighting for his own free life, trying to escape the freakshow, but all along Sam was the main attraction.

Nothing had changed. If anything the distance made his attraction worse. He finally realized he didn’t just love his brother, he was  _in_  love with his brother.

He realized it as he came, deep within Dean as Dean bucked his hips, arched his back, and jacked himself off between them. Tight around Sam’s cock he felt his brother tense, slick wetness erupting from his dick as he rode through Dean’s orgasm.

Reluctantly, Sam withdrew himself from Dean and fell next to him on the bed. He was sweaty and tired and still in a drunken haze. In the morning, logically he knew there would be regrets, and even in his post orgasmic fog he could feel it start to filter in. Warn him that being in love with your brother was the biggest fucking situation he could be in.

But before he allowed the burden of his fears to overwhelm him, Sam wrapped his leg around Dean and pulled him close. He wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist not ready for either one of them to run.

“Why did you even come?” Sam asked sadly.

Dean laughed suggestively, “Pretty sure it’s ‘cause your dick was in my ass.”

Sam closed his eyes breathing slowly, “I mean  _here._  Why did you come here?”

Dean turned his head on the pillow they were now sharing. He searched Sam’s eyes before finally saying, “You got two options right now, Sam. I can leave. I can walk out that door right now. Or I can stay. But if I stay we ain't having this conversation.”

“You’re threatening to walk out on me if I don’t do what you say?”

“No, I’m sayin’, you askin’ these questions ain’t gonna get us anywhere. I can leave and we can pretend like it didn’t happen." Dean brought his hands up to rub at his eyes, "I just wanna pretend it didn’t happen.”

“But it  _did,_ ” Sam replied quietly. “It  _keeps_  happening, Dean.”

“ _You_  keep making it, Sam!”

“So you’re saying it’s my fault?”

“Jesus. No, Sam. I fucking know it’s  _my_  fault, okay?” Dean lifted his hands from his face. “I fuckin’ brainwashed you since you were a kid into practically being my goddamn fucktoy.”

With a lump rising to his throat, Sam asked in a small pained voice, “Is that what you think?”

“Sammy,” Dean pleaded, “ _That’s_  how it is.”

“Dean, I didn’t even want  _this_  until… until.... god, I don’t even know when the hell!” He propped himself up on his elbow. “ _You_  didn’t make me want this.”

“You wouldn’t want it if-”

“Shut the hell up,” he interrupted. “ _We_  wouldn’t want this at all if Dad wasn’t such an asshole.  _We_  wouldn’t want this if Mom had never died. But she did die and that’s how we were raised. I can’t believe you fucking think-” Sam stopped. He had to fight swallowing back the lump in his throat. He was shaking and his eyes were burning warm.

“Why else would you leave?” Dean turned away from him. He closed his eyes and Sam watched as his brother’s throat bobbed and his eyes threatened to break tears.

Exasperated he said, “Because I don’t want to be a goddamn hunter, Dean! How _many_ times do I have to say it?” He ran his fingers through his hair, “But you do, okay? And that’s fine but that’s  _not_  what I’m gonna do with my life.”

Sam waited until they both calmed down. He was feeling much more sober and was starting to regret not keeping booze in his dorm. “Dean, please,” he begged, “You gotta know it’s not like that. _You_  didn’t fuck me up. You _have_ to know that, man.”

Dean’s lip quivered and his eyes looked glossy as he said softly, “Sam, look what I did to you. There are  _words_  for it, okay? People go to _jail_ for things I’ve done to you.”

“Dean,” Sam pleaded.

“What do you want me to say, Sam?”

He shook his head, unsure of how to respond. Dean nodded slowly as if it confirmed his suspicions. Sam lifted his arm and pulled his brother close to him. Moving his hand to the back of Dean’s head, Sam held him in place as he kissed him firmly trying to show him everything that he meant to Sam. Everything Sam didn’t know how to say. Dean didn’t pull away.

When Sam broke their kiss, he felt slightly more at ease. Calm. Dean appeared to look better as well.

Clearing his throat, Dean asked through his hoarse voice, “Not to ruin the horrible fuckin’ mood but I got a serious situation leaking outta my ass right now.”

Sam laughed unexpectedly. He kissed Dean quickly and said, “Bathroom is down the hall to the left.”

At the time he hadn’t even considered that as his brother rushed to put his clothes on, winking at him with the cocky smug look Sam was so familiar with, it would be the last time he’d see him for two years.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing Dean did after waking up in the Impala the next morning was flip open his phone, rip it in half, and throw the pieces the hell away. He didn’t check for messages. He knew what they’d say and it would break him to read them. Dean had a huge fucking blind spot for Sam, the kid could talk him into anything. This time Dean was doing it his way.

No contact.

They were done. Done until they could both _really_ move on with their lives. Sam would be mad as hell, sure, but he’d be fucking normal and he’d have a chance for that ‘real life’ he was always talking about. It burned in his chest but Dean didn’t see any other way. And if Sam never forgave him then he would finally understand what Dean was trying to tell him all along. Dean ruined that kid. The best part of Dean’s life and he destroyed him.

The worst part was Sam couldn’t even see.

Through his absence Dean was going to make his brother see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghostbusters (1984) - Ghost trap/don't cross the streams
> 
> ~*~
> 
> WOW! I just want to say a huge thanks to everyone who has read this far! Thank you guys so much! I’d especially like to thank everyone who has left comments or kudos. And those of you that read stories that aren’t “complete”. You da real MVP! Seriously. You guys have been huge motivators for me to get this posted on AO3. Like I’ve said before, I’ve never really written before this (heh one 8k word Heroes fanfic…) and I somehow managed to write 130k words in less than three months! Without your encouragement that definitely would not have happened. THANK YOU! 
> 
> There will definitely be another part to this series that will be set during the first few seasons of SPN. More angst and fluff ahead! This will probably be a bit of an ongoing series where I'll be keeping it as close to canon as I can (reinterpreted through Wincest-goggles). It might be a little while before it’s posted, however, because I need a bit of a break. I’ve been neglecting my artwork which is what I usually work on instead of writing novel length fanfic. ^_^
> 
> If you want to check me out…  
> Tumblr: candle-jill  
> Fanart on my tumblr at: tagged/My-SPN-Fanart  
> I have one wincest video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMOHkkmA3wQ


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